


This Is My Skin

by enigmaofherself



Category: Warrior (2011)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide, content warnings first, does anyone have healthy coping mechanisms i think not, ok i think that's it, the day my characters learn to just talk about their problems will be the day i stop writing, the whole thing has been rewritten!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaofherself/pseuds/enigmaofherself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparta has finished but nothing has changed, not really. But then Harley walks into his life and nothing will ever be the same. Tommy knows what it's like to be the last one standing but he might just learn that sometimes it's not about winning the fight, but having something to fight for. {rewrite complete!}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. drown us out at sea

**THIS IS MY SKIN**

_(and it's thick. this is not your skin - yet you are still under it.)_

* * *

we all carry these things inside that no one else can see

they hold us down like anchors

they drown us out at sea

**\- 1 -**

* * *

The clock beat in time with his punches and Tommy was lost in the rhythm of it. It was early morning, pale sunshine refracting around the empty gym through the high windows, making the space seem cold despite the late summer warmth that lay languid in the streets. While it was tolerable now, the heat would quickly begin to build as the gym filled, and so he chose to get his sessions done early in the morning and late at night. Plus, it was easier to zone out and fall into the cadence of his own movements when he was alone.

Currently, the only other person in the building was Colt, the manager. Tommy had expected to be dropped when he lost the title at Sparta but it seemed that Colt wasn't ready to give up on him just yet. Despite the odds, the pair had struck up a relatively stable friendship, something that Tommy usually wasn't very good at. Though he'd lost the competition, Colt didn't want him to run off to another gym and so was eager to keep Tommy's attention - and loyalty - which is from where the discussion of 'income' had sprung.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Tommy's intention had been one thing and one thing only: victory. Thus he had forgone sponsors and interviews, which meant he had also forgone profit. While some cash had come in due to it all being televised and Colt being able to talk the talk, the whole thing had left Tommy with little more than a dislocated shoulder and an empty wallet. So, when he had been released from hospital, Colt had been quick to pull him aside and start talking income. In return for Tommy keeping the gym clean, acting as spotter when required, and manning the front desk, a weekly wage would appear in his account every month, keeping things ticking over. It wasn't much but in the world that he lived in, Tommy was grateful for every cent Colt spared him.

Aside from the money, having a reason to get up and out of the house in the morning, and something to think about other than, well, anything else, was a relief. Sparta had been more mentally challenging than physically and the maelstrom of thoughts it had triggered weren't as quick to go as they had been to appear. Fires that he had believed to have been smothered out years ago flared up, burning just as strong if not stronger than the first time around, old wounds tearing open to bleed just as fresh. Since he had been fourteen years old, Tommy had carried around a casket of conflict and by stepping in front of the camera - and his brother - it had been thrown open for the world to see; and while he supposed that the silver lining at the bottom of unleashing such a Pandora's box unto himself was the chance to have his brother back in his life, he couldn't deny that Conlon men had one defining trait: abandonment.

When Brendan had held him tight after that fight, breaking and remaking him simultaneously, Tommy had clutched onto the whispered promises with a child's hope that maybe it was going to be okay. That he had lost the fight but he had won so much more, and the two men that had meant everything to him only to be lost were suddenly there again, flawed but present, and that took him higher than any morphine the doctor could prescribe. He allowed himself to remember the fairytales his mother told him as a kid, that love conquered all, and all sins could be forgiven.

And so, together, the two brothers had walked away from the cage. Brendan's strength had encased him the way it had when he was just a boy, and Tommy wept for the path his life had taken. When the doctors took him into surgery, Brendan promised him that he would be there when he got back and Tommy believed him. As he'd faded into oblivion, he'd seen a fragile catharsis hang above his head like a halo and he'd thought that this was - finally - the end of him.

When he woke in the hospital bed, he heard rather than saw Brendan outside the door. It didn't take Tommy long to work out that his brother was speaking to his wife, and as he'd blinked away the remnants of sleep, he realised that it hadn't been catharsis hanging above him after all but rather the collision of time. After going so long without even acknowledging the existence of a brother, the missed years of their lives had met, warped and imploded inside the cage, all with an audience as witness. They'd tried to play catch up but you can't miss out half the book and expect to continue the story. No, there was no catharsis here; the tragedy played on.

Still, Brendan tried, Tommy had to give him that much. He sat by his bed for over a week, handing out apologies with every meal, pleading for his baby brother to understand why he'd had to leave him all those years ago. He spoke of his daughters, his wife, his family 2.0 and Tommy could only count down the days until Brendan would leave, afraid that the antiseptic of the place would leak into his wallet and bleach the faces of his loved ones away. Brendan was sorry but he did not regret, and what kind of person would Tommy be if he expected him to? He knew better than most that you could not wish away a family, even a bad one.

Thus Tommy forced himself to shoulder the pain. He took Brendan's apologies and ate his hospital food like a good patient, and he made himself numb. Not that he could do much else: his blood had turned to sand a long time ago, and no amount of holy water tears could bring him salvation now.

On that last day, Brendan gave his final apology, his breath rattling through his lungs like old pennies. Tommy accepted it wordlessly, wondering whether being blown to pieces with his unit would have hurt less than this. Still, when Brendan hugged him close, Tommy held on for dear life, sending a choppy prayer to whoever the fuck was listening that this would be it. That he had paid his dues, that he had collected enough demons to satisfy the devil and that this would be it. Whether or not it was answered was something only time would tell.

When Brendan dropped him outside Paddy's little home, Brendan told him that he was going to donate a percentage of his winnings from the fight to Pillar and her family, in honour of Manny. There was little Tommy could say to that accept a tight-throat thank you, for it didn't matter whose bank it came from, as long as those beautiful children could have the life and opportunities they deserved. And as Brendan drove away, promising his little brother that there would always be a place for him at his table, Tommy told himself that he was okay to always be the one left behind. The walk from the ring to the hospital bed was long enough; second best was good enough.

Time passed, as it does. It took about twelve weeks of physical therapy for Tommy's shoulder to finally start to get back to normal and he hit the gym as soon as he was able. During those few months, Tommy tried to keep out of the path of his father as much as possible, the pair of them caught in the steps of an awkward dance that moved from one extreme to the other with no grey area in sight. They spoke the language of coffee and long silences, never quite looking each other in the eye but trying not to avoid each other to the state of blatancy. When the sun was bright, they would attempt to settle into the mould of any dynamic they could: father and son, trainer and fighter, but the suit never quite fit. Thing was, the fundamental parts of their existence hadn't changed, nor, perhaps more importantly, had they been addressed and as such it was hard to shake the feel of what they had once been: abuser and survivor.

That atmosphere was another reason why Tommy was grateful as hell to have a certified excuse to be out of the house: even his Pop couldn't argue with him leaving to go to work. Plus, it allowed him to train when he wanted which kept him in shape, and with the guys that worked out there having already known him before Sparta, it allowed him to keep his head down. Occasionally a passerby would stare at him or a fan would come into the gym but his ferocity and the lack of communication he'd had with the media gave him a large enough buffer to avoid any publicity, though the one or two letters he'd had from viewers were sweet enough that he kept them in his bedside table.

Which brings us back to now. Tommy threw his last punch just as the clock struck nine and began to unwrap his knuckles, enjoying the small comfort in regime. Knowing the doors would be opening soon to the regulars, he quickly hit the showers, appreciative of the hot water as it soothed his muscles. Afterwards, he dressed in silence before walking out to take his place at the front desk, anticipating the cool breeze from the AC to probably be the best part of his day. He nodded his greeting to those that walked by and pulled out a pile of membership applications that he was hoping would take up the rest of the morning to process.

With only the sound of abused punching bags to distract him from his own thoughts, the creak of the door sounded too loud in his ears and he sharply looked up, realising only then it was approaching midday. He was surprised to see a young woman, perhaps in her mid twenties, barking a goodbye down her cellphone as she stepped into the gym, bringing in a wave of heat from the outside. Sighing, she dropped a satchel down by one of the waiting chairs then headed over to where he was sat. Tommy looked her up and down as she approached, not recognising her at all. He wondered whether she was a fan but there was a hardness in the lines of her face that made him think otherwise.

"Can I help you?" he asked, watching her. Tiny beads of sweat lined her forehead and her mascara was smudged under her eyes from the heat, enhancing the shadows lurking there.

"Er, is Colt here?" She had an accent but it was the exhaustion in her voice that Tommy heard, and it took him a second to register her question.

"Name?"

"Harley Sinclair. He knows me." Her tone was dismissive, her body turned away from him as if she would rather be somewhere else. Tommy thought about asking what she was here for but decided he didn't actually care. Instead he got up and told Colt he had a visitor. As the two greeted each other, he told himself he was only listening in on them because there was nothing else to do.

"I thought you were gonna be here yesterday," Colt said, holding the girl at arm's length to give her an appraising look. She just shrugged, her eyes darting over to Tommy for a tiny second, her face devoid of emotion.

"Things took longer than I expected. You still okay for me to crash at yours?"

"Yeah, 'course." Colt's tone was softer than Tommy had ever heard it and when he pulled the girl in for a hug, Tommy thought that maybe he should make it less obvious that he was watching them.

"Take as long as you need," he said before checking his watch. "I've got to make some calls. Gimme twenty minutes and I'll take you round. That okay?"

"Sure," the girl - Harley, Tommy remembered - said, moving to take a seat, visibly uncomfortable with being left alone. She took out her phone, unlocking it then locking it again without actually looking at it. After a few more rounds of this, Tommy cleared his throat.

"Do you need anythin'?" he asked her, trying to be polite. Harley put down her phone and sent him a smile, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. When she shook her head, Tommy decided to busy himself with more paperwork, not wanting to waste more time staring at some random girl. Soon enough, Colt reappeared and ushered Harley out of the gym, calling over his shoulder that he'd be back later. As the girl closed the door behind her, she sent Tommy another warm smile and he couldn't help but return it.

By the time Colt returned, the gym was empty and Tommy was stashing away his gloves in his locker having finished his late night workout. His manager was leaning against the front desk when he walked out.

"You alright, man?" he asked. Colt shrugged and ran a hand over his bald head.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just had some late nights, that's all." There was a pause and then Tommy found himself asking the question before he even realised he was going to.

"Who was that girl?" Colt gave a short laugh, shaking his head.

"The daughter of an old friend," he replied vaguely and Tommy leant against the wall, raising his eyebrows at his boss until he continued. "I was friends with her mom when we were kids. Now I think about it, Lily lived not that far from your old man's place."

"She looked rough, man," Tommy said, recalling her face: gaunt, pale, dark circles under her eyes.

"I know. I got her some food though and then she practically passed out on the coach. Runnin' on fumes, as always." Colt looked like he was gonna say more but then turned away. "Right, I've got some business to tie up then I'm out. I'll see ya tomorrow?" Tommy nodded and headed out with a goodbye.

When he got home, the smell of coffee hit him hard and he could hear the Moby Dick audiotape coming from his father's bedroom, which meant that it was a tough night for his Pop. Tommy hesitated outside his door, knowing that a good son would go in and see if he was okay but then he decided that bad fathers don't get the luxury of good sons, and so he climbed the stairs, undressed and fell unceremoniously into bed. The sound of muffled voices coming from downstairs reminded him of being a boy with a family again, and he drifted off into darkness, not awake but never quite asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote for this chapter is from "Chelsea Smile" by Bring Me To the Horizon. The title of this fic and the accompanying quote is by pleasefindthis in the book I Wrote This For You.


	2. the smell of blood

 

try explaining a life bundled with episodes of this

swallowing mud

swallowing glass

the smell of blood on the first four knuckles

**\- 2 -**

* * *

 

It wasn't until Tommy was halfway into the foyer that he noticed Harley curled up on one of the waiting chairs, a magazine propped against her knees. He stopped in his tracks, taken aback at how ordinary a sight it was, and he dared to wonder whether she had been sat there every day and he had just never noticed. When she glanced up, the force of those bright green eyes made him look away and he busied himself with collecting the equipment cupboard keys until he no longer felt her stare.

It was early in the morning, not even gone seven, so Tommy was confused as to why the woman was there in the first place. Colt was in but had already locked himself away in his office so there was absolutely nothing for her to do unless she wanted to kit up and go work out, which didn't seem very likely. As he went to the set up the equipment, the forever grumpy part of him snidely hoped that he wouldn't be expected to babysit the girl during his shift.

When he returned to the front desk, he saw that Harley had thrown away her magazine and was now sat staring out of the window with a distant look. She was perfectly still like a renaissance painting, and even from where he was standing, Tommy could see the weight of exhaustion pulling at her shoulders and for the smallest of moments, he felt like he knew her.

But then the moment passed and he shook his head, moving past her to open the door - it was too damn hot - and it was then that Harley decided she'd had enough of the silence.

"Tommy, right?" He nodded but didn't look at her. "Have you known Colt for long?" A weak ice breaker but he decided to humour her, and shrugged.

"Not really. Half a year, give or take."

"Oh, right. So, are you fighter too?" Tommy couldn't help but glance over, surprised - and so fuckin' relieved - that she didn't know him. Not that he was that arrogant, it was just refreshing to be a blank page. He nodded and she seemed to appraise him, looking him up and down, which made him decide to take his turn.

"You from England?"

"Mhmm," she hummed, a strange look flashing across her face.

"What brings ya here?" he asked innocently enough, and was taken aback by the sudden harshness of of her gaze.

"My mum wanted to see the States again," she replied after a long pause, the words forced through gritted teeth. There was a warning there, bright within her tone, and though he thought it unnecessary, Tommy heeded it nevertheless. Then, not wanting to carry on a conversation that all of a sudden had rules, he turned his back on the girl and disappeared into the main hall to begin his work out.

Harley watched him go, the stony expression fading into a small smile.  _ Interesting. _

Later, when Tommy returned from his workout, hair damp and muscles warm, Harley was nowhere to be seen. Colt mentioned in the midst of a conversation that she had gone to visit her mom but before he had time to even soak in the words, his manager was pushing into the ring. A new fighter had joined the gym the week before and was all talk. While he'd held his own against some of the others, Colt wanted to see how he fared against a real fighter.

The man was out cold within forty seconds and Tommy stared down at the limp body impassively, not invested enough in the fight for it to have stirred any unbidden emotion. He stepped out of the ring, wondering only a little bit whether he'd always feel this cold.

The day passed; it always did.

Brendan called during the evening and Paddy handed him the house phone with hands that were steadier than they had ever been despite his relapse a few months prior. Sparing a grunt to express his gratitude, Tommy grabbed the phone and lay back on his old bed, staring up at the same ceiling he had stared up at as a child. Brendan's hesitation was tangible but Tommy didn't help him, remaining silent as he waited for his brother to speak.

"Tommy... how are you, man?" Not perfect but it did the trick.

"Fine, you?"

"Good, man, I'm good. Er, I'm phoning to ask you something, actually. We were wondering whether you wanted to come visit for a few days?" Tommy stiffened and his voice was rough when he replied, asking for a timeframe.

"Oh, er, not until October. Just wanted to give you a heads up. It's, um, it's -" Tommy cut off his stalling, already knowing what he was going to say.

"It's your birthday."

"Yeah." Brendan sounded surprised and relieved as if he had expected Tommy to have forgotten his own brother's birthday. Tommy held back a scoff of contempt; as if he had forgotten a single thing about his older brother - not a single thing.

"I don't know, man," he began, ready to turn down the offer. It felt too forced, like Brendan was only making the effort out of guilt. Though, he supposed, what else was there in their family if not guilt?

"Just think about it, okay? You've got a month or two to think about it. I would really appreciate it if you came, Tommy." There was an undeniable note of pleading in his brother's voice that made Tommy wince. No matter how much resentment he had for Brendan, he couldn't just flat out refuse him when he sounded like that.

"I'll think about it," he acquiesced, rubbing a hand over his eyes, and Brendan's sigh of relief meant more to him that he would ever know.

"Great, man. I'll talk to you later, okay?" They said their goodbyes and Tommy found himself once again alone in the dark of his childhood bedroom. It was barely big enough for him and he had contemplated the idea of moving his and his brother's old beds together but when it came down to it, he couldn't fathom moving anything around. He was afraid that if he touched it, it would just collapse into ash and sand.

He looked around him and was again hit by the horrible realisation that the empty bedroom and the crowded gym were all he had. His time was split between the two places, both of them just a necessity. Both of them full of anger stemming from the same things, both of them with the same beginning and ending. Before that room he'd had the Marines - and before that, he'd had that room. That room inside that house which had been built with dysfunction and broken whiskey bottles, shot glasses lined up on the kitchen windowsill like fairy lights.

Tommy lay in his bed, his hand over his eyes and he thought that there had to be something else, something other than those four walls and the lingering promise of regret.

It was over a week later when Tommy next saw Harley. It was nearly lunch time when she came through the door of the gym carrying too many bags as she talked to someone on the phone that was caught between her ear and her shoulder. He could see the handles of the bags digging into her pale skin but she didn't seem bothered as she traipsed across the foyer, laughing down the phone with more energy than she'd had before. Still, Tommy got up and took most of her bags, his lips twitching at the corners when she gave him a beaming smile of thanks. She quickly hung up the phone and shoved it into her pocket.

"What's with all the stuff?" he asked her.

"Colt asked me to pick up some things, though at the time I didn't realise 'some things' constituted an entire shop. I also brought some food since he was being grumpy." She lifted one of the bags Tommy had left her with and it didn't take long for the aroma of whatever was in it to hit him.

Harley pushed into Colt's office without knocking and dropped the bag in front of him, rolling her eyes as he immediately began digging through it. He quickly found a burger with all the sides and didn't even look up before he started shoving it into his mouth. It was like he was a starving child and Tommy watched him eat like a wild dog with a raised eyebrow. Harley saw his expression and laughed, grabbing the bag again.

"Jesus, don't choke," she said to Colt who just gave her the finger. Harley rolled her eyes and left the office, Tommy moving out of her way as she went to put the bag on his desk.

"Here, come get some food." Unable to resist the smell, Tommy shot her as he went to check out what was on offer. There was chicken salad, seafood paella and some kind of steak fajita that was overstuffed with roasted vegetables. At Tommy's questioning look, she explained.

"I assumed you fighters would be as pernickety about food as dancers are, so I just grabbed whatever looked the healthiest. There was a party where my mum's staying and they had loads of leftovers. Help yourself." Shooting her a grin, Tommy pulled up a spare chair for the girl and they sat down together in comfortable silence, delving into their meal with enthusiasm. It tasted as good as it smelled and soon enough the other gym patrons began to drift towards them.

Seemingly ignorant of their stares, Harley threw some napkins their way, gesturing with a wave of her hand to tuck in. It was only when she slipped into Colt's office to grab some water did the questions Tommy had been anticipating started.

"Dude, who's the chick?" asked Dennis, one of the regulars. Tommy shrugged, not really knowing the answer, and looked over his shoulder as if he could see her through the office door.

"She's a friend of Colt - s'all I know."

"Damn, she's a bit young for ol' Colt!" Mad Dog exclaimed, the others chuckling. "Don't blame him though - did you see her ass?" The laughter diminished just a little bit and Grimes glanced up at Tommy, pleased to see the disdainful expression. It was always fun for him to wind up the competition, especially when it was so easy to do.

"Lay off," Tommy grunted, pushing away from the desk just as Harley returned, her car keys in hand. Mad Dog stood up straight and shot her his best smile, giving her a little wink when she caught his eye.

"What dya say, sweetheart?" he asked, looking her up and down in one slow, obvious movement. Harley raised an eyebrow, cocking her hip a little as she waited for him to get to the point. "Wanna try a real fighter?" Harley's expression was comical as she frowned, feigning confusion.

"I thought a real fighter was supposed to  _ win  _ their fights?" The glint in her eye was mischievous as the others howled in laughter, slapping Mad Dog on the back as he shrugged nonchalantly, shaking off the dig, though he couldn't hide the tiny bloom of pink that tinged his cheeks. Not able to look either Harley or Tommy in the eye, he loudly changed the subject and ushered his gym mates back into the main hall, eager to move past the little scene. Tommy couldn't help but grin at his retreat.

"Your mom always did say you were a sarcastic little bitch," Colt called from his office, prompting Harley to snort as she headed to the door. With a wave of her hand, she disappeared down the road.

"Can't quite figure 'er out," Tommy mused as he handed his boss some documents to sign. Colt sighed then laughed a little to himself.

"Tell me about it. I only met her once when she was a toddler but even then she had been a fiesty lil’ thing. I can see a lot of her mom in her, too. ” His tone had turned thoughtful, inward, and Tommy paused, staring hard at his own hands. Unable to stop them - and not quite wanting to - he was hit by the memories of his own mother, cancer-riddled, coughing up blood, and mumbling broken words as she cried herself to sleep; cold sweats and chunks of hair on the pillow. Tommy felt a surge of empathy for the girl.

"Is that why she's staying with you?" Even to his own ears, Tommy's voice was cracked and rough. If Colt heard it, he didn't show it.

"Yeah. Her mom is at one of those psychiatric places for the moment so she's tryin' to find a place for both of them to stay to avoid rackin' up more costs. I felt I owed it to Lily - she saved my ass many a time back in the day. It’s a shame how she’s turned out." He sighed and stepped away, hiding the concern in his expression with an offhand shrug. When Tommy headed back to the front desk, Colt closed the door behind him with a firm click. Tommy stared at the wood panels for a long moment, wondering how many stories were hidden away in that office, wrapped around his desk lamp like an old power cord, and whether his was one of them.

* * *

 

No matter what time Harley pulled up to the hospital, it was always full of hovering relatives with grim, confused expressions. People didn't understand their own brains and they certainly didn't have a clue about anyone else's, especially when they worked in different ways.

The nurse at the station just waved Harley in as she approached, a sign of how often she'd been hanging around the place in the short time since she'd arrived. After exchanging quick pleasantries with her, she ventured off to her mother's room. Painted birds and flowers followed her path, creating an almost eerie sense of forced joy. When she got to the room, she saw that the curtains had been drawn, allowing the patient to sleep undisturbed. Harley let out a sigh: her mum always seemed to be asleep when she came to visit, no matter what time of the day it was. The nurse said it was a mix of her medication and general weariness, nothing to be concerned about, but Harley couldn't help worrying. Then again, her mother's lucid periods had been getting few and far between before they'd arrived in Pittsburgh, so perhaps it was a good thing after all.

"Hi, mum," she whispered, tiptoeing around to the visitor's chair. The slumbering woman looked quite peaceful, her long mahogany hair draped across the pillows like Sleeping Beauty, her body relaxed and still. The resemblance between mother and daugther was uncanny, sharing the same green eyes, pale skin, plump lips. But where Harley was strong, Lily was fragile, life and love having ground away at her for too long, wearing her down to nothing but fear. Once the lively beauty, here she was, wasting away in a psychiatric ward.

"Don't worry," Harley told her, taking her hand. "You'll be out of here soon. I've got some places to look at this week, I'm sure one of them will be perfect. It will just be the two of us; I can sing for you, like I used to, and I'll look after you. You'll be okay, mum. I promise." Her eyes blurred for a second but she blinked away the tears, not wanting to cry. Things could be worse, she told herself.

She didn't stay long, unable to stomach the sympathetic looks for more than a couple hours. When she walked through the doors, she let out a deep sigh, trying to force all the tension to leave her body. It didn't work, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

It was funny how things changed. Her mum had been begging for them to return to the States for years, having grown up there, but Harley had hesitated, nervous of how much it would cost to not have free healthcare at her disposal - not that they provided much for the type of care her mother needed. Still, Lily had been adamant, wanting to see the city where she'd spent her childhood, and so here they were, their life savings draining away almost as quickly as her mother's sanity.

Plus, it didn't hurt that she had Tommy to stare at during the day. That face paired with that fighter physique? She didn't think it could get better than that but then they'd started interacting and it turned out that he was  _ nice  _ too - something that was hard to come by in any four corners of the world. But here, in Pittsburgh of all places, she'd stumbled across Tommy Conlon and she had to admit, she was finding herself becoming more intrigued with the man each time. Quiet but not shy, there was something under the surface that had caught her eye, and she wanted to see more. He was a hard man, not through training or some hypermasculinity kick - life had made him that way. He carried his experiences like tattoos, an expanse of artwork that detailed his history. When she'd questioned Colt about who he was, he'd just brushed off her queries and told her to talk to him herself. That kind of protectiveness was rare for him, which made her all the more curious.

So, when she turned up at the gym the next day and Colt wasn't there, she didn't hesitate to approach Tommy instead.

"Since Colt isn't here to take me to lunch and I have no idea where to eat in this town, how'd you fancy taking me instead?" She gave him her sweetest smile but when she saw the shutter draw behind his grey eyes, she immediately back-tracked.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, don't worry about it." She stepped back, intent on leaving the gym as swiftly as possible so she could berate herself in private, but then for a reason unbeknownst to her, the hardness in Tommy's eyes twisted into something softer. He grabbed his wallet and stood up, swiping up his jacket in the other hand.

"Sure, I can do lunch." While Harley stared at him in disbelief, he called through to the others to let them know that he was going out and the desk was unmanned, before the two of them walked out together.

"There's an alright diner just two blocks over from here."

"That sounds great," she said, perhaps a touch too enthusiastically. She hadn't done this sort of thing in so long and despite never being one to lose her cool before, she was rusty with social interaction outside of healthcare professionals.

"Thanks for coming with me. I know it's probably not what you wanted to do for your lunch," she said, making sure to keep her voice at socially acceptable enthusiasm levels. "I just get lost so easily around here and Colt is awful with directions." Tommy chuckled softly.

"I'm havin’ lunch with a pretty woman at somewhere that ain’t the gym. I think I'm okay." Harley blushed but didn't look away when she grinned at him, appreciating the small tidbit of humour. He had his hands tucked into his pockets and his head was dipped slightly, his shoulders hunched, but when he smiled at her it was the most beautiful thing she had seen all day.

When they got to the diner, they were sat at a booth and they both studied their menus in silence. Harley looked all the options and sighed: everything looked so good. Still, when the waitress came to take her order, she picked the first thing she saw and went with it, plus some water. Tommy ordered his meal and soon they had no excuse for silence.

"So, how long you stayin' in the 'Burgh?" he asked her. Harley bit the inside of her cheek and fiddled with the corner of the menu, and Tommy instantly understood that there was more to that question that he might have thought. Harley thought about how she should answer, because 'until my mum dies' was probably not a suitable response inside a family diner.

"Depends," she finally replied and Tommy nodded, sensing not to push it.

"You been here long?" she asked in return and Tommy scoffed, looking away.

"Born here. Got out for a bit but now I'm back," he answered, not hiding the obvious fact that he wasn't happy about it.

"Got out how?"

"Joined the Marines." His voice was low and cautious, and Harley sat back to study him, thinking that he definitely suited the role. Perhaps that was the reason why he had all that pent up anger just festering beneath the surface; those who knew death had sorrow, but those who well versed in dying knew anger. Harley wondered how many times Tommy had died.

"Oh, right. Is it like a family thing, or?" she asked, recalling the male tradition of an old friend's family back home.

"As soon as I could, I joined," Tommy told her, his voice quiet, wary. Harley could tell they were treading dangerous waters for the both of them and this made her lips quirk into a strange sort of smile, because this wasn't how socialisation or lunch dates were meant to go. Her elbows were on the table and she swirled the ice around in her water, staring blindly at the glass in her hand. There was a long moment of silence and it was Tommy who broke it.

"What brings ya here, then? I doubt it's for a vacation." The absurdity of it being a holiday for her made her snort in derision and Tommy's lips pulled up into a cold smirk because he knew that feeling well.

"Definitely not a holiday." She paused before continuing on with a gentle shrug. "My mum was born here, she would always talk about this city. Apparently I’ve been here before but I was too young, I can’t remember it. Anyway, she’s been wanting to come back here for a couple of years now and with the way everything is going, I just thought now was the time.” 

"Yeah, Colt, er, Colt said your Ma was sick." The unease in his posture, the gentleness in his tone, the compassion in his grey eyes, it was enough to stop her from being irritated at the intrusion. Not that she would normally mind but talking about her mum always made her think things she’d rather not.

“Mmm, yeah. The hospital she’s at is meant to be one of the best in the country for her type of illness but they say there’s not much more they can do. I’ve come all this way, paid all this money, just to be back at square one. I don’t really know what I was expecting.” She sighed, disheartened, and Tommy didn’t know what to say next. Luckily, the waitress appeared with their food, providing them with a decent distraction.  

"Sorry, this isn't really lunch talk," Harley apologised after a couple of bites, forcing a small laugh. Tommy just smiled at her, hoping it seemed natural.

"It's fine. I get it, don't worry." Without having to explain, Harley had no doubt that he did. The rest of the meal was spent talking about menial things and enjoying their food, taking it slow. Despite the awkwardness of their unsteady conversations, they ended up spending over two hours sat in the booth, reaching a level of comfort with each other that allowed them to laugh and smile at the small things. It was a reprieve that neither of them got the chance to have often, and they took advantage of it.

Harley said goodbye to him outside the gym and Tommy watched as she climbed into her car with an innate grace that only came from someone who had been trained to be hyperaware of their body. He waited until she had driven off before going back into the building. As he threw his jacket over the chair and sat himself down at the desk, he thought about Harley and how, despite the eggshells that had been generously littered around their booth, he had enjoyed himself - and that was so unexpected, so out of the ordinary, that just for a second he wasn't angry anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 8 February 2016. The quote is from "Crush" by Richard Siken.


	3. monsters beneath your bed

oh, when will you start believing

there are monsters beneath your bed

and all the voices of self-destruction don't begin inside your head

**\- 3 -**

* * *

After the success of her lunch with Tommy, Harley took it upon herself to declare their ice officially broken and started to sit with him whenever she visited the gym. It wasn't often but whenever she did turn up, Colt would pointedly close his office door, clearly desperate for some 'alone time' since she was still crashing at his place, so she was grateful that Tommy didn't seem to mind. More often than not, it was early morning when Harley would arrive so they would sit together at the front desk, filing the paperwork and making small talk until Tommy began his workout.

It took her a week or two before Harley gathered the confidence to venture in after Tommy when he disappeared into the main hall. Not that she was particularly nervous around people but she wasn't keen on answering the inevitable questions that are asking during introductions. Everyone always asked her what had brought her to the States and even the thought of piecing together a polite response was exhausting. Still, most of the other patrons recognised her by now so except for a few curious looks and offhand smiles, they didn't really acknowledge her presence. Pleased, Harley adjusted to her slowly expanding environment and took to sitting ringside to watch the fights.

While Harley thought her presence went unnoticed, Tommy quickly picked up on the way a few of the fighters, mainly the young amateurs, would change the way they held themselves when she sat herself down on the bench. The distraction caused them to lose their form and they became sloppy, something that was exasperating for Colt but hilarious for everyone else.

"Focus on your opponent, not her ass!" Colt would shout if he thought that their gaze was drifting. Harley would blush, the others would laugh; the whole thing quickly became a friendly routine, allowing her to settle down. Every so often as the fights went on, she found herself looking round the room for Tommy, oddly reassured when she spied him at the punching bags or lifting weights. A few times she caught his eye and he would shoot her a bemused smile, making her turn away quickly, hiding a grin.

When she wasn't watching the fights, Harley would flip through newspaper after newspaper, circling potential accommodation with a thick black pen. It was mostly just to pass the time as she wasn't technically allowed to take up permanent residence due to being on the VWP but it couldn't hurt to look, right? Her mum was so desperate to stay in Pittsburgh and if she got her way, it would mean finding somewhere to live as it would be unreasonable to assume she could stay at Colt's for any longer than she had to - it was bad enough already and it had only been a couple of weeks.

Thing was, finding somewhere to live would also mean finding some way to make money - which was conveniently another no-no on the VWP list. That in itself was a pain because between a full time student and her dance classes, the only money she had was the small amount she'd saved when working her weekend job back home, and those funds were very quickly diminishing thanks to the hefty hospital bill her mum was wracking up. To think, all the wishing and dreaming Lily had done about returning to the States, and all she'd done so far was lie in a bed - a very _expensive_ bed. Harley asked herself every day what was the point in spending all that money and coming all that way just to move her from one hospital to another, but what could she do. All she wanted was for her mum to be happy, and despite the drugs and the bills, she did seem to be calmer in the city where she'd grown up. Better memories here, Harley supposed.

Anyway, whatever the outcome was, Harley would need to make a plan. Her mum could stay in the States as long as she wanted thanks to the wonders of dual nationality, but Harley only had ninety days on the clock and a lot of restrictions on top of that. If she was going to stay there for that whole time, she needed to be smart. Hey, who needed to eat, right?

It was just then that Tommy sat himself down next to her on the bench, jolting Harley up from the newspaper and out of her thoughts. When she glanced up at him, she found herself staring directly at his shirtless chest, still damp from his shower. Her eyes followed the dark aggressive lines of the myriad of tattoos that covered most of the skin she could see seemed to swirl and slash in an almost bitter fashion. Numbers and words and images that together hinted at a story that she had no right to guess at but was suddenly desperate to know.

Her fingers twitched and she raised her hand without thinking before becoming painfully aware that Tommy was staring at her, paused in the middle of towel drying his hair, expression cautious and uncomfortable. Embarrassed, Harley sent him a sheepish smile before lowering her hand back down into her lap.

"Er, what?" Tommy rolled his eyes and carried on drying his hair as he repeated his question.

"What you lookin' at?" It took Harley a couple seconds before she realised that he was referring to the newspaper and not her little spaced out session. She sighed, her distraction over, and put the paper on the bench. She felt hot spots of exhaustion burn in her shoulders and absentmindedly rubbed at them.

"Nothing really. Planning for a future that probably won't happen - and even if it did, I'm not sure I could afford it anyway," she said it with a half-hearted laugh. Tommy threw his towel into one of the laundry bins by the door and began to pull on his t-shirt.

"Don't you have someone to help you out? Siblings, father, friends? … A partner?" Tommy cringed at the way he'd asked that last part, the awkward hopefulness that had somehow slipped into his voice, surprising even him. It wasn't like he cared, right? Right.

"Nope." Luckily Harley didn't seem to notice his weird tone, or if she did, she didn't show it, and Tommy relaxed a little. "It's fine, I'll work it out. I always do." It was obvious that she was trying to sound confident but to Tommy, the forced resignation clinging to each word was as clear as day. He'd said the same thing in the same way many times in his life, and watching this girl try to shrug away whatever it was that she was carrying was like looking into the past. It was unsettling and he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat to dislodge the bizarre feeling that had come over him.

"You'll be okay," he murmured without meaning to, and it came out like a promise.

"So will you," she replied as she stood up, and the smile she shot him was radiant.

Sunlight streamed through the windows and speared the ground where she walked, glancing off her hair like water, shrouding her in a pale glow. It was as if she was a ghost spun of gold, gliding through his wasteland of spent glory and unspent dreams.

Watching her then, it dawned on him that the strangeness he was feeling was familiarity. He didn't know this woman but he knew the story she was writing: he'd written the same damn one years ago.

He didn't realise he'd gotten to his feet until he was stood behind her in the foyer. He said nothing but she knew he was there, and when she turned to face him, her expression was in such contrast to the regal straight of her spine that he took a step towards her without thinking - and then he was there and she was there, breaching space and thought with a stranger's intimacy. There was intrigue and something akin to shame in the woodland of her eyes.

"Who are you?" she whispered, conflict clouding her gaze. When she spoke next, her breathing was quick as if they had been chasing each other for miles. "I feel like I know you. You hardly speak but I want to tell you everything, my story hanging on the tip of my tongue just with one look from you because I feel like you'd understand-" She abruptly cut herself off and snapped her head to the side. A blush darkened her cheeks and when she stepped back, there was a learned submission to her stance. Tommy realised that she felt she had spoken out of turn and expected to be punished for it.

Standing there, he could see their story typed out in the tense tendons of her graceful neck, in the bruises awning his knuckles. He heard an echo of a scream in the fogs of his memory and he knew that while his story was over, her ink wasn't yet dry. _Fuck,_ he thought, and closed the distance between them. Harley expected a reaction from him and so he allowed himself to react, and never once did he regret it.

Tommy had to duck his head to press his lips to hers and he was struck by the push and pull of drowning and flying at the same time. Harley tensed but didn't move away and he took that as permission to knot his calloused hand in her wild hair, the other pressing at her waist to pull her body to his. There was roughness in his grip but his kiss was gentle; and when he pulled back to gauge her reaction, it was she who brought him back to her with a fierceness that he had already come to expect. Fire was left in the wake of where her fingers lay and each breath that fanned across his cheeks was gilt.

"Mmm," Harley hummed when they parted and Tommy looked down at her with a lopsided smile she hadn't seen before. She could feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm where it rested on his chest and it suddenly hit home what had just happened.

"What was that?" she found herself asking.

"Your story." He caught her hand, held it. "I don't know who you are, Harley," he said quietly, "but for once in a long time, I think I wanna find out."

"I think I want to let you," she whispered, biting her lip with a belated shyness. Tommy smiled and he hadn't smiled so much in one day since Manny had been alive, but maybe that was okay. Unable to help himself, he dipped his head for a second time and pressed his lips against hers. Her hands reached up to tangle in his damp hair and he stroked his thumb across the smooth line of her jaw, his fingers tilting up her chin as his tongue traced over her bottom lip. Harley let slip a small moan and leaned into him, hoping that the rest of the world would just fade away into the background like it did in the movies, because being in the arms of Tommy Conlon was by far a better way to spend the rest of her day than what she'd had planned.

But then a loud cheer from the gym as a fight was won startled them both to come up for air. Momentarily stunned by what just came over them, they just stood there, staring at each other. Harley licked her lips, enjoying how they tingled, and Tommy's eyes flickered down to watch the darting movement of her tongue, his pupils dilated. He didn't say anything and Harley wondered what it all meant: maybe there was nothing to it, maybe they were just two people who needed a break from their loneliness; maybe she was just a body for him to use, for him to step out of his skin so that he might invade hers. The thought scared her and she instinctively went to step away as if to distance herself, but Tommy wouldn't let her go.

"Stop panickin'. It's okay," he reassured her in the voice that he had only ever used with two other people in his whole life, both of whom were dead. It wasn't often that Tommy stepped into the role of the comforter but he felt like he owed it to her somehow. He didn't know her but he felt like he did and he was inexplicably scared that this girl was going to end up with the same scars he bore.

When Colt stepped out of his office a few moments later, they were standing far enough away from each other for him not to notice the electricity sparking between them, and he gestured to Harley with a wave of his hand.

"Come on, let's go. I need to get out of this fuckin' office." He slapped Tommy on the back as he left, unaware of the way Harley lingered, her fingers curling against his star fighter's bicep of the briefest of moments before she turned to leave as well. It was a small gesture but one that spoke volumes, and Tommy was overwhelmed by the weight of that single touch.

From his childhood to the Marines and back again, he had never had the time, stability or inclination to become involved in a relationship with someone. One night stands had been regular occurrences over the years, because the mindless, faceless release of energy into another body was in the same vein as a good fifth of whiskey. He was well versed in sex and fucking and everything else in between, but romance? The few times he had trodden the shallow waters of something similar to a so-called serious relationship, it had been like taking one step forward and three steps back. Women didn't want a man who pushed them away, who had nightmares and flashbacks and mood swings, who fought for money and repentance. The few who had stuck around in his life and bed for more than one drunken night had been lulled into a false sense of romanticism because of his tragic past, thinking that maybe they could be the heroine in their very own chick flick. They offered shoulder rubs and puckered lips and sympathetic nods but they didn't really understand. They didn't understand what it was to be a soldier, a fighter, a carer and a victim all at once; they didn't understand what it felt like to lose their mother, their father, their brother, their best friend. So when they realised that they weren't taking on a fairytale but a horror story, they packed up their shit and left, and Tommy was all the more glad for it.

But then Harley had walked through the gym door like the last words of a dying man. She may not understand any of those things either, but she sure as hell seemed to understand a lot more than any of the others. There was knowledge there, hanging heavy in her bones, pain that had been carved into her spine and he knew nothing about this woman but he was terrified she was going to walk the same path he did all those years ago. He knew what it was like to have to drag yourself out of the mouth of hell, and he wanted more than that for her. Why? He didn't know.

Maybe that wasn't the way a relationship was supposed to start but he was more than willing to plead ignorance if it meant he got to kiss her again.

From the moment she turned away from Tommy, Harley couldn't keep that bloody smile from her face. Even through Colt's dreary rants about fights, even through doing the dishes and curling up on an old pull out sofa, she couldn't stop smiling. She held on to it all night and bounced through the house in the morning, laughing in the way that Colt remembered from when they first met. It was folly really, how she'd managed to let a boy affect her mood so, but she couldn't help it. Tommy was hot and he was _nice,_ and he'd kissed her - twice! Through all the shit that she'd had to put up recently, it was nice to just be happy for once, even if it was short lived.

And it was. Just as she climbed into her car to head over to the gym, her phone rang. The words she heard next were enough to wipe that smile right off her smug face.

When Tommy fought that afternoon, things weren't much different. His anger still fuelled his fists, his regret, guilt and loss forming a bottomless maelstrom that tore through his muscles and seeped into the flesh or fabric of whatever it was that he was fighting. He was just as animalistic as ever, his infamous carnal ferocity still pulsing through his body like a poison - but it kinda felt like he could breathe easier this time round. His mind was always clear during fights but his chest felt lighter somehow, like it wasn't going to cave in each time his heart beat. His hands were still covered in blood, sand still rubbed in the joints of his bones, but he could breathe. He could breathe.

Afterwards, when he stepped out of the shower, water dripping from him, he felt refreshed. He wondered if this is what normal people felt like. It was nice, and the good mood followed him in his walk home. The stars were starting to come out, the evening air still warm. He even allowed himself to look forward to a good night's sleep.

When he got home, the lights were still on and the smell of coffee had gone. The door swung on open with a creak, glass dusting the carpet and he stepped across the threshold into the neverending retelling of his childhood. As he closed the door behind him, he struggled to breathe.

* * *

The scream hung in the pristine corridor like a demon, its claws sharp in the flesh of Harley's back as she banged her fists on the wing door to get someone's attention to let her in. As she was buzzed through, the lead nurse ran over to her with a clipboard, curls of hair sticking to the sweat on her forehead, her scrubs rumpled and her eyes wide. Harley nodded along to whatever she was saying but didn't really hear any of it, too focused on the sound of yelling.

"Help me! I'm being kept here against my will!" a woman shouted, followed by the sound of crashing.

"She's building up a tolerance," she caught the nurse saying before she rounded the corner into the private room.

The first thing she saw was her mother thrashing on the bed, trying to buck off the restraints two men were trying to force onto her wrists. Her long dark hair was tangled around her neck, and her gown was caught up between her legs as she kicked at anything that was near.

"Lily, you have to calm down!" the doctor was saying, hand on her shoulder. A vial with a syringe lay discarded on the table next to him. Harley pushed past the two assistants and latched onto the side of the bed, putting a hand on her mother's forehead.

"Mum! It's me, it's Harley, I'm here. You need to calm down, okay? You're safe, no one is going to hurt you. This is the hospital I brought you to, remember? They're trying to help you, okay?" Lily twisted her head and stared at her daughter, her struggling coming to a stop.

"Baby girl?" she asked, voice hoarse, eyes wild. They were a vivid green, as clear as the sea. No matter how far gone she was, her eyes were always lucid.

"Yeah, mum, it's me," Harley whispered, forcing a smile to curve her lips.

"I don't want to be here!" Lily cried out, agitated. "I need to get out of here! Please don't let them keep me here, baby girl, please!" Harley sighed, heartbroken.

"I'm sorry, mum, just a bit longer. They can help you, you need to trust them. Just while I figure out the next step, alright?" It was then that Lily started to cry and she went limp, no longer needing the restraints.

"I hate it here, I hate them, I hate it," she sobbed, and Harley nodded at the doctor who waved away the assistants. He hooked up an IV with a sedative and switched over the fluids while Harley comforted her mother; as he left the room, he sent the girl a sympathetic look before leaving them alone.

Harley remained there at her mum's side until the medication started to work and Lily succumbed to sleep. When she was sure that no one would hear her, Harley bowed her head and cried.

* * *

One thousand days sober had meant very little against his son's anger and once the glass had been broken, it was hard to miss the cracks. Paddy Conlon had truly believed that he had found his way, that the light was back in his life and he could relearn how to live again. But then he had felt the bite of coins thrown in his face and suddenly the mirror of sobriety was as shattered as it perhaps had always been. The AA had been his map but Tommy had taken it from him and now he got lost at every single turn.

This was something that was nobody's fault but yet everyone was to blame. Tommy had felt the cold touch of regret when he had held his father's drunken body back at the hotel, and he felt it all the more every time he found his father passed out when he came home. It wasn't often and it wasn't for nothing but it was, all the same, just as he expected.

Once a drunk, always a drunk. Tommy hated being right and he hated being the reason for it.

Whiskey bottles lay discarded and half empty on the living room floor, the television throwing a white static over the darkened room. The kitchen lamp was bright and harsh, lighting the way for Paddy as he crawled across the floor on his hands and knees, chasing after a bottle of liquor that had rolled under the table.

Tommy watched his father for a long while. His eyes burned and his hand stung from where he was gripping the doorframe. Then, with painful clarity, he knelt down and pulled his father into his arms. Paddy caught hold of his son and began to sob, his face flushed and his hands shaking as he told Tommy over and over that he was sorry. The words were slurred but the meaning was there.

This wasn't the drunk man of his past. Paddy didn't drink because he was angry, he drank because he was sorry, and as Tommy held his drunken father on their kitchen floor, he wasn't sure which one was worse.

* * *

As the night fell dark, there sat two strangers watching over their sleeping, broken parents. Both felt alone and estranged from help or fortune; who were they to know that they were sat beneath the same moon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 29 May 2016. The quote is from "Land of No Return" by Wild Sweet Orange.


	4. a hole in the world

 where you used to be

there is a hole in the world

which i find myself constantly walking around in the day time

and falling in at night

i miss you like hell

**\- 4 -**

* * *

_There is sand everywhere you look. It grinds against your bones as you march across the dunes, half blind from the glare of the sun. Vultures circle nearby and you do an automatic sweep to make sure all your men are still at your flank. Their hazy silhouettes, all present and accounted for, comfort you._

_On your left is Manny. He's your best friend, your brother, the only family you have left. He's running his mouth about something, shooting you a smirk and a wink as he makes some comment that has the others groaning. When he nudges your shoulder with his, you can't help but laugh. It's been a long day - a long tour - but the end is in sight, and it's unsurprising that the conversation turns to what's waiting for you all when you get home. Wives, children, families, friends, you name it, your men have it._

What you lookin' forward to, Manny?

Me? Man, I can't wait to see my girl again.

_The wistful tone in his voice makes all the men scoff as they turn to you._

What 'bout you, Tommy?

Me? Man, I can't wait to see Manny's girl again.

_The men laugh as Manny takes a playful swipe at your shoulder, not letting the teasing before him. The banter continues around you and you have this feeling like you've all walked off the face of the earth, like you've ascended somehow. You've all seen and done things that the people back home couldn't even dream of, and it's like it's changed your DNA somehow. You've learned to breathe in the sand, to see through the scorching sun, to carry the weight of your gear as if it was nothing. Your unit has been made and unmade together, been broken and reborn together on the battlefield and you know you could conquer the world with these men at your side._

_The days seem longer under this sun which seems to hang forever in the sky, no matter the time, so you're not sure how long it is before you find the abandoned collection of wood shacks that are half buried beneath the sand. Adjusting the firearm in your grip, you gesture for your men to be on their guard as you approach the tiny village. Most of the structures have collapsed or are about to, though they don't look that old._

_You feel odd and just as you're about to suggest you move back, Manny calls you over. You find him kneeling inside one of the shacks, holding open a covered ditch in the ground in which you see rudimentary materials that could be used to make explosives. The odd feeling solidifies and you snap out commands for your unit to vacate the area; it's then that the sound of aircraft steals your attention._

_They're mostly just blotches of shadow against the sun but Smithson is peering through his binoculars and he calls over to you, relief clear in his voice._

Friendlies! I can see the flag!

_When you confirm this with your own pair, you let the tension fade away, grateful to not be thrown into your third firefight in as many days. Manny slaps you on the shoulder and you feel a bit light-headed like you've had too much to drink. You hear laughter as the others whip out their own flags, ready to wave them high and proud in the air. Watching them, you think that you're still too close to the village and you open your mouth to tell them to move back. Before you can get the words out, the first bomb is dropped._

Get down!

_It hits the ground like an earthquake, sending columns of burning sand shooting up into the sky. Manny stumbles beside you from the shockwave and you drag him back to his feet by the lapel of his vest. The men start running, shouting things that you can't hear over the ringing in your ears. You feel Manny push on your shoulder and then the pair of you are being thrown to the side through one of the shacks, and all the sound around you dies with a clap of thunder. You're covered in debris and you're struggling to breathe in. When you look to the side you see one of your boys - Campbell? - and his uniform is crimson, and his mouth is open like he's screaming but you can't hear anything except a shrill keening and when you try to reach out to him, he is swallowed by a hungry mouth of sand._

_You crawl out from under the rubble, wiping sand from your eyes with the back of your hand, and you slowly drag yourself in the first direction you think of. You try to form words, a name, but your throat is burning and you keep swallowing something metallic each time you cough. Just when you think your legs are going to give out, you see someone lying face down beneath some planks of rotten wood. You don't need to turn them over to know who it is but it still feels like a punch to the gut when you see his face._

_Manny cries out his wife's name, your name, and his hands are scrabbling at your chest as you try to soothe him, spitting out muffled promises that everything is going to be okay. Your training is racing through your head in sporadic spurts but all you can focus on is the piece of gnarled metal that is protruding from his rib cage and there is so much blood that you can smell it over the burning._

_You tell him help is coming but when you squint through the smoke all you can see is bodies. Manny stops crying and you hold him tighter just as he goes limp, and you think you're screaming his name but all you can hear is silence as his eyes close and his head falls back. You shake him but he just lies there and your fingers are sticky with his blood, sand in your mouth, and the planes are circling round. You could try to signal them but instead you pray that they have one last bomb to drop because your unit is dead and this is one battlefield you're not planning on leaving alive._

* * *

It was still dark when he woke. The house was quiet, like the first snowfall in winter, and Tommy walked through the house like it was made of glass.

When he poured the alcohol into the sink, he didn't pull the plug. He just let it sit, the smell seeping through the walls like rain, the carpet damp with it. The house creaked and groaned as if the foundations were made of old bones, soil caught in the cracks, whiskey stained marrow. The kitchen floor was scratched from all the broken glass swept under the rug, a faint bloody hand print that had been furiously scrubbed at staining the wall. The man who had made it many years ago was carefully tucked into bed, a pint of water and some aspirin waiting patiently on his bedside table.

Unable to remain in that room any longer, Tommy retreated to the stairs and sat down heavy on the bottom step. As he stared out into the darkness before him with burning eyes, he began to shudder. It felt like insects were burrowing around his lungs, biting and consuming as they went; he was a rotting, hollowed thing, his humanity festering in the empty pit of his stomach.

Broken; lost. He didn't know what to do and it scared him. His whole life had been one loss after the other, each one bringing him to his knees and now there was no one left. No one except him. He had died a thousand deaths and yet still he remained, begging for an end that was never granted.

When he had woken in the hospital after his unit had been killed, he'd asked the nurse if this was the afterlife. She'd laughed and said no. They had all been so clean and sympathetic, treating him like a child with the flu, even when he screamed and threw chairs across the room. When he asked them why his bed was filled with sand, why the water from the tap ran red, why the planes overhead were flying so low, they would just tell him to rest. When he asked them why he was still alive, they had nothing to say.

A few days in, some official looking people had sat across from him, using words either too fancy or too dumb for him to understand. He spent the whole meeting staring at his hands. They spoke about apologies and certificates and medals and friendly fire and honourable discharge or leave or whatever it was that he wanted - there was only one thing he wanted - and that he was to get better because they cared about him and because he was a good soldier: it was all bullshit. It was a group of dogs with their tails between their legs because they'd fucked up and he hadn't had the good nature to die with the rest of the sorry cunts in his unit, so the officials actually had to raise their hands and acknowledge their mistake, god forbid.

When he healed up, they had sent him on his way with a band-aid and a lollipop, ruffling his hair and ignoring the gore that dripped from his hands.

Not knowing where else to go, Tommy had fallen back into the lap of his childhood - and only now was he realising what a huge mistake that was. He had only ever thought about how it would affect him but now he was seeing the impact his presence had on the others around him. Maybe if he had won Sparta it would have been different but in that moment, sat on that step, he couldn't picture tearing his brother apart the way he had wanted to inside the ring. Now, with only a loser's title and an unconscious father in the other room, Tommy could see the mess he had made. His father would still be sober if he hadn't arrived. Brendan would still have won the competition, he was sure of it, and - well, there was no one else in his life, not really. Just a boss, some guys he worked out next to and a pretty girl that he didn't know the age of, and he definitely didn't want to drag her down with him.

He wished that he had died. While he was pretty sure that was different from wanting to die, it all boiled down to the same thing. He was here and he didn't want to be. There was no romance or poetry to be found in this wish, just fear. The nurse was wrong: this was the afterlife and his demons knew him well. The devil sang his lullaby and he wanted it to stop.

At some point during the night, Tommy wiped away his tears and forced himself to get up from the stairs. His feet dragged and he stumbled against the wall like he was the drunk one, his head spinning as he found himself back at the kitchen sink. The horrific stench of booze had sweated into every pore of the room making him feel sick. He stared into his distorted reflection for a long time before it became too much and he plunged his hand in and wrenched out the plug. The whiskey drained away with a hiss but the smell refused to dissipate.

As if on autopilot, Tommy grabbed the bleach from the cleaning cupboard and began pouring it on every surface. He got on his hands and knees like his father and scrubbed the liquid into the dirty tiles. The sweat began trickling down his forehead and he kept seeing drops of blood appearing out of the corner of his eye, making him turn around and clean that bit all over again.

Yet even when he had cleaned the entire kitchen, he could still smell the alcohol. Thinking that maybe it was on him, he ripped his shirt off and threw it into the sink, bleaching it and disinfecting it and soaping it down until the material had curdled and gone a sickly white - but the stench was still there, except now it wasn't alcohol but burning flesh he could smell.

He didn't stop to think and suddenly the bleach was on his skin and it was burning like sand and the sun and he could hear explosions shaking the floor beneath his feet. Tommy collapsed, panting, hands slipping against the damp floor as he tried to pull himself into the present. He focused on the sting of his skin and it took a few seconds for it click that he had bleach on his arms, and he quickly ran out of the kitchen and into the bathroom where he stripped off his trousers and threw himself into the shower. He turned it to as cold as it went and stood under the water until the burning went away.

It was still dark when he got out of the shower - when would it be day again? - and he didn't watch where he was going as he stumbled, shivering and soaking, through into his bedroom. His feet caught on the door frame and he pitched forward onto the nearest bed, face hitting the pillow with perfect accuracy. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, a new smell filling his senses, one that was familiar but distant, like a forgotten memory.

Exhaustion rattled through his bones like a cold wind and he let himself give into it. He turned his head so that he was facing the wall and his body relaxed into the sheets. Just as he felt the heavy drag of sleep pull at the edges of his consciousness, Tommy realised that he must have fallen onto Brendan's bed because he was surrounded by the childhood scent of his big brother and in that last moment before he succumbed to his exhaustion, Tommy felt like he was fourteen years old again. He felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 30 May 2016. The quote is a poem by Edna St Vincent Millay.
> 
> Quick note - the only major deviation I make from the canon is how Tommy leaves the Marines. Since we can assume that more than 30 days passed between Manny dying and the end of Warrior, that would probably be considered desertion (guessing here) which has some pretty serious consequences. If that had been the case, this story would never have happened so I changed it for purely selfish reasons.


	5. the grief of others

large moon, the deep orange of embers

also the scent, the grief of others

beautiful

but at a distance

**\- 5 -**

* * *

It took Harley a long time to gather the sufficient courage required to get out of the car and walk into the gym. There was no reason for her to be getting herself worked up like this but she was nervous all the same. It had been over a week since she had seen Tommy which wasn't a big deal at all, but the last time they had seen each other, he'd kissed her. Then she'd kissed him. Then she'd fucked off without a word.

Bloody hell. Those kisses seemed like a lifetime ago. Thinking about them was like looking through the window into someone else's life because it had been so perfect that it just didn't sync with everything else that was going on. That tiny moment of happiness had come and gone, and she was left with an unquenched desire to have _more_ but it just didn't seem possible. Things like that didn't happen for her.

So much so that she had genuinely considered never returning to the gym. Harley was prone to moments of spectacular cowardice and for a good few days, she'd convinced herself that it would be better for everyone involved if they went their separate ways. Tommy obviously had a lot going on and she sure as hell did, so perhaps it was easier for the both of them to focus on their own lives before delving into someone else's.

After all, they'd only kissed. Nothing else, nothing more. Nothing to get her hopes up over. They'd only known each other for three weeks, for goodness sake! That wasn't a relationship. That was little more than bumping into a stranger. With their mouths. Twice. But whatever. It wasn't like she'd be throwing anything away! It made sense, it really did.

At least, that was what she told herself over and over again until it sunk in, but no matter how hard she tried to talk herself out of it, there she was, sat outside the gym. There was just something about Tommy that made her shiver at the mere thought of him. She'd so neatly slotted into the space next to him and now she didn't want to leave, regardless of how little they knew each other. And so.

It was early but she knew Tommy's schedule well enough by now that she was certain he'd be there, working out. Setting her shoulders, she got herself out of the car and entered the foyer, eyeing Tommy's jacket hanging on the back of the front desk chair. Already she could hear the quiet murmur of the patrons and she peeked round the corner as subtly as she could to count a handful of guys milling around the large room, doing their own thing. She spotted Tommy easily, attacking the punching bag as if it had done something to personally offend him. A few of the others glanced at him, picking up on the same anger she was feeling all the way from across the room.

Hmm. Perhaps not the best time to make her grand reappearance after all.

Deciding to cut her losses and head back to Colt's place, Harley turned on her heel when the call of her name stopped her short. Straight away she knew who the voice belonged to and she rolled her eyes, cursing that he was the one of all people to notice her. As she slowly pivoted round, she saw Mad Dog leaning over the ropes in the ring, a wide smirk greasing his face. She felt rather than saw some of the others look over at her and she prayed that Tommy wasn't one of them.

"Mmm?" Nonchalant, that was the way to play it. If she showed even a hint of misplaced enthusiasm, poor ol' Grimes would just get spurred on and she did _not_ have the energy for that oversized puppy to be dancing at her heels. He beckoned her over but she remained by the doorway, feet glued to the floor.

"Aw, come on doll, I just wanted to see how you're doin'." His gaze climbed up and down her frame and she wondered why the hell he was pretending to be interested when she was only ever dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She hadn't bothered with much makeup that morning and her hair was thrown into a messy bun at the back of her head - nothing that merited a call back.

"I'm doing fine, thanks," she said back, hoping he would let it drop. Instead he raised an eyebrow.

"Really, doll? You don't look like you're doing too hot." There wasn't anything malicious in his tone but being called out in front of a room of men like that was pretty embarrassing, and she fought back a blush.

"Good thing I don't care about your opinion," she retorted, refusing to look over to where Tommy stood.

"Oh baby, you shouldn't lie to yourself," he drawled with a wink and Harley rolled her eyes.

"Get over yourself, Mad Dog, I'm not fucking interested," she snapped back, thoroughly irritated. The man's sense of humour finally broke and he stood up straight, scowling.

"Right back at you, bitch. I don't know who the fuck you think you are but you have some nerve comin' in here and actin' like you're the queen of the damn place!" Harley rolled her eyes, cursing her decision to go to the gym in the first place.

"Okay then, bye," she said as she turned away, not interested in dragging out such a stupid fight.

"There she goes, thinkin' she's better than the rest of us!" he called after her, voice carrying. "Stuck up slut."

The ridiculous insult didn't even faze her and she had no intention of turning back when she heard _his_ voice, low but firm.

"Don't talk to her like that." She wheeled around and darted back into the hall to see Tommy stood by the ring, watching Mad Dog with a cold, calculating look. Anger seemed to radiate from him, crackling like a wood fire, but there was a preternatural stillness to him that you only ever saw in those trained to be unseen.

"How 'bout you mind your damn business, Riordan," Mad Dog spat, clearly affronted to his professional nemesis stepping on his toes yet again. He climbed out of the ring and came to stand directly before Tommy, purposefully getting in his face. The others had stopped what they were doing now, inching closer though not making any further move to get involved - Harley didn't blame them, for coming between Grimes and Tommy would be like coming between a freight train and an angrier freight train. Clearly these two were not friends and jumped on any chance they could to knock each other around, but Harley could easily see that there was something else going on with Tommy. It wouldn't take much to trigger that hot anger building up inside him.

When Tommy continued to stare at Mad Dog in that unsettling way he did, the older man did the only thing that came more naturally to him than fighting - run his mouth.

"What does it have to do with you, anyway?" he sneered. "What, you fuckin' her now? Jeez, that didn't take long did it -"

Harley didn't even see Tommy move but when she blinked Mad Dog was on the floor, clutching his nose while the ex-Marine stood over him, breathing hard. Two of the bystanders came forward to help Grimes sit up, one of them grabbing ice for his face. When another told Tommy to walk away and he just stared at him in that same way, Harley lurched forward to wrap her hands around his arm. After a few insistent tugs he seemed to notice her presence and let her steer him into the foyer. She pushed him down into the desk chair and grabbed his fist to inspect his knuckles, stroking her thumb across them to feel for a break. Tommy watched what she was doing intently, trying to suppress the shiver that raced up his spine at her touch.

"What the hell was that?" she asked him without looking up, focused on her task.

"He insulted you," Tommy said slowly as if it should be obvious. Harley snorted, not at all impressed.

"Bullshit. There's something going on with you, more than some stupid grudge with that guy." Tommy shrugged but didn't reply and Harley sighed, letting his hand drop, satisfied it was okay.

"How'd you know to do that?" he asked her as she looked down at his blood splattered hand with a strange expression.

"Did it for my dad all the time." Tommy frowned and looked up but at Harley's expression, he didn't push it.

"Why'd you come back?" he asked instead, watching her watch him.

"Why'd you punch Mad Dog?" she retorted and he couldn't help but smile a little at her tone, at the bittersweetness of the moment.

"I'm going to figure you out, Tommy Conlon," she assured him, smiling with challenge in her eyes. Tommy shook his head, smiling wider now, letting her earth-cool presence draw the heat out from his bones. He could hear muttering of the guys inside and realised he really didn't have the inclination of dealing with the aftermath of his little smackdown, so he made a snap decision and stood up, grabbing a hold of Harley's hand as he did so.

"Come on, let's get outta here." Harley brightened at the prospect and followed close behind him, letting him lead her to the sidewalk. The morning sun was still shining, the birds singing from the trees in a cheerful tune that put her into higher spirits, enjoying their casual closeness.

"You hungry?" he asked her and she scoffed.

"Honey, the first thing you need to learn about me is that I'm always hungry." Tommy laughed and gestured to the west, saying there was a good breakfast place a short walk away, and she grinned, pleased that he wanted to spend time with her.

For a little while they said nothing because there was too much for them to say. So many questions were building up behind their teeth but they didn't want to have to answer any themselves, so they held them back. They walked in time with each other, their arms brushing, finding that easy cadence to being together that gave them both a small thrill. They kept expecting the whole thing to be difficult, to be painful, but so far it was shaping up to be the least painful thing either of them was having to deal with; an unexpected respite that was as needed as it was wanted.

The air was getting cooler as clouds started to roll and when Harley shivered, Tommy quickly pulled off his jacket to drape it over her shoulders. She smiled at him so warmly that he didn't think he would need a jacket for the rest of the day.

They arrived at a small but cute cafe that boasted the best pancakes and they were not wrong. Their conversation was mild but enough to not be awkward, and Tommy laughed as she drowned her breakfast in maple syrup, and Harley teased him as he took an age to find the healthiest thing on the menu. There were still rules to the allowable topics of conversation but they were learning how to navigate them now, settling for details about themselves that didn't hurt. Harley told Tommy how much she loved his laugh, giggling when he blushed, and he admired the leonine wildness of her hair that turned auburn in the sun.

It wasn't until the walk back that Tommy touched her gently on the small of back for half a second, causing Harley to look up at him.

"I didn't think you were gonna come back," he admitted quietly.

"I was always going to come back. You don't walk away from a kiss like that." Tommy grinned a little, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"You liked it?" he asked, trying so hard not to sound shy. Harley smiled to herself and decided this was a moment she wasn't going to be a coward.

"Tommy. It's all I can think about," she said seriously.

"Same," he murmured, not feeling guilty that he was lying because he _had_ thought about it, just alongside sand and demons and death - but he'd save that gem for another day.

"Really?" she asked and he was astounded to hear the uncertainty in her voice, the lack of self belief. It seemed so unlike her that he stopped dead in the street, pulling her round to face him.

"Really." Without sparing a thought to who would see, Tommy pulled her mouth to his, the softness of her lips already committed to memory. He cupped her face with one hand, wrapping the other around her waist, enjoying how he was pressing against him, trusting and eager. When she wrapped her hands around his neck, holding on tight, he thought how perfectly they fit. He heard someone tut as they walked by but he didn't care and just kissed her harder, allowing himself this one indulgence.

"I think we're going to get done for public indecency in a minute," Harley whispered in his ear when they pulled away. Tommy smirked and let her step away though he kept his hand around her waist, not ready to let her go just yet. They walked back to the gym like that, comfortable in their silence.

Harley said goodbye to him at the door and he caught her glancing over her shoulder at him as she climbed into her car. Even after she had gone, Tommy rested against the doorway for a long while. He could hear Mad Dog bitching even from outside but he refused to let him or anyone else disturb his dormant anger; he knew it was only a matter of time before his control cracked and he wanted to take advantage of this calm before the storm that Harley had granted him for as long as he could.

* * *

Harley drove away wondering how long it would be until she next saw Tommy, but it turned out that she didn't have to wait very long at all. It was only when she got to the hospital to see her mum that she realised she still had Tommy's jacket on. She texted Colt for Tommy's address and when she left the hospital, she drove over to his house.

It was a small house, sandwiched between a line of others like a row of boxes at the back of an abandoned warehouse. There was only one car in the driveway and the whole street was quiet, unnervingly so. Back home there had never been a quiet street, no matter what time of the day or night it was. A pale dancing light from the window implied that someone was watching the television so Harley steeled herself and knocked on the front door. No one answered for a long time and Harley wondered whether she was at the wrong house or if it was too late for people to be knocking on doors, but then the lock was pulled back and a man with white hair and a face like weathered stone appeared. His expression was expectant but guarded, and he smelt very strongly of coffee.

"Can I help you, miss?"

"Hi, um, is this Tommy's house?" The man swallowed, paused then nodded. "Is he in?"

"Who's asking?" His question was quite blunt, almost rudely so, but Harley supposed that it was a reasonable one to ask and she sent him a bright smile in an attempt to get him to relax. He seemed really uptight and nervous and she guessed that he was Tommy's father. Maybe they'd had an argument or something.

"I'm Harley Sinclair, I know Tommy from the gym? He left his coat behind so I just wanted to drop it off." The man looked down at the jacket in her hand and he quickly reached forward to pick it up. Harley let him take it, a tad put out at his standoffish attitude. She sighed and took a step back down the stone stairs and put her hands out in a submissive gesture.

"Sorry if I disturbed you. If it's not too much to ask, could you just let him know that I dropped by?" The man watched her for a minute or two and Harley shuffled her feet under his gaze, but then he sagged a little and glanced over his shoulder.

"No, I'm sorry, miss," he sighed. "It's just that every so often some girl will turn up outside this house begging to see my son. Fans, y'know? Some of them are quite pushy and Tommy's sleepin'... he needs his sleep, I don't wanna disturb him." Harley smiled and stepped back up, emitting the calm that she used when dealing with her mother.

"No worries. It was lovely to meet you…"

"Paddy, Paddy Conlon." They shook hands and when she leant forward, the light from the hallway splashed across her voice and Paddy's eyes widened in recognition.

"I know you!"

"Er, do you?"

"Yeah, I do! I've seen your face before, a beautiful face. Though the hair was more red… what did you say your name was? Sinclair? Are you a relation, by any chance, to Lily Sinclair?" Harley dropped Paddy's hand like he had burned her and Paddy lost his smile at her cold expression.

"How do you know my mother?"

"Oh, er, sometimes the AA visits the hospital, y'know, to keep the patients company. Lily is a kind woman - I read her some Moby Dick the other week. She said she liked it very much."

"The AA?" Her tone was flat and sharp like a sheet of black ice. Paddy flinched and wrung his hands.

"So they're letting random drunks into my mother's room?" Paddy cringed at how she worded her accusation and hurried to correct her.

"No! There's a hall we sit in with any patients that want to join, and there's doctors and nurses there, we're never alone with them… and we're not drunks, we're recovering alcoholics!" Harley let out a disbelieving bark of laughter that sounded like the noise a condemned man might make, and whirled away, head spinning. "Miss, I'm sorry! We had permission from the hospital, we thought everyone knew." Harley ignored him. A small part of her suspected that she was being irrationally emotional but with everything that she was dealing with, the weight of caring for her mother - who always seemed to be screaming or crying whenever _she_ turned up but was apparently well enough to hang out with the fucking _AA_ \- was getting the best of her.

"She's in there _because_ of people like you," she heard herself spit, covering her face with her hands.

Paddy couldn't believe that he had somehow managed to make this girl cry within the space of a few minutes, when all she had wanted to do was drop off his son's coat. He swallowed thickly, anxious. Tommy was going to be angry with him, more so than he already was. If this woman really was friends with his son, then he wasn't going to take kindly to his father having made her cry in the middle of the street.

He didn't know what to do. Part of him wanted to just shut the door and pretend like it never happened, because that was how he dealt with most things – but then he heard movement behind him and the next thing he knew, Tommy was pushing past him and running out after the girl.

"Harley!" he called out, his hair ruffled from sleep and his chest bare. "Wait, Harley! Hey, what's goin' on? Why you here? Why you cryin'?" He grabbed her elbow and pulled her round to face him, and something funny in his chest lurched at the sight of tears running down her face. She hastily wiped them away but they were just replaced by new ones and it looked like she coming apart at the seams, collapsing into herself.

"I came to give you your stupid coat back," she snapped, gesturing wildly to where Paddy still stood in the doorway. Tommy glared at him and waved him away.

"Did he say somethin' to upset you?" Tommy asked and Harley clawed at her cheeks as if trying to rip her own skin off rather than just her tears.

"No. Yes! It's just - my mum has been spending time with his goddamn AA group, listening to Moby fucking Dick like everything's fine and here I am, running around like an idiot trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with a shit ton of hospital bills I can't afford to pay, nowhere to live, a ninety day visa that's quickly running out and no one to help me except my fucking _father_ who is the reason we're in this mess in the first place! She _screams_ every time _I_ see her and yet alcoholics get to sit and read with her? Why? How is that fair?"

She was crumbling now, the words pouring from her like ash as she sobbed in a way that people could only do if a part of them had died. Normally so confident, she was now so small in Tommy's arms. Not knowing what else to do, he reacted purely on instinct and pulled Harley against his chest and held her as tight as he could without hurting her. Her hands curled around him like she was afraid she would drown without him, and he rested his chin against her temple, feeling the way she shook in his arms, fragile and trembling as if she was held together by a single thread that was beginning to splinter. He held her the way he'd held his mother when she cried and he stroked her hair the same, and he didn't let go until she had cried herself out. It was the second time that day that Tommy had held Harley in the middle of the street without a care in the world for what anyone else thought, but the circumstances were so vastly different, he could barely comprehend it.

When Harley pulled away, she was quiet, too drained to feel as embarrassed as she normally would have at her breakdown though she did avoid his gaze. Sighing, Tommy put his fingers underneath her chin and guided her head up so that she had to look at him, and then he stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. The intimacy of the gesture made Harley blush but instead of pulling away, she gave him a shaky smile, hoping to convey her gratitude through that one look.

"How do you do that?" she whispered.

"Do what?"

"That." Tommy shrugged, unsure at first of what she meant but when she reached up and kissed him hard, he thought he had an idea.

"I should apologise to your dad," she murmured but Tommy shook his head.

"Leave it. You did nothin' wrong." Harley sighed and slipped back against his chest, and they wrapped their arms around each other, allowing themselves that one moment of shared vulnerability.

Something had changed between them as if a small seed had taken root within them. There was an energy in the air, one that crackled with an untold stress and pain they were loathe to confess to, but Tommy had seen her begin to break before his eyes and his first reaction had been to put her back together – and he would do it again and again if he had to. It didn't take him long to realise that, in that moment, his desire to fix Harley eclipsed his desire to die, and hell, if that wasn't a sign then he didn't know what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 30 May 2016. The quote is a poem called Sonoma Fire by Jane Hirshfield.


	6. something to live for

the mystery of human existence lies

not in just staying alive

but finding something

to live for

**\- 6 -**

* * *

It was exhausting trying to ascertain whether he cared too much or not enough. Tommy had never conquered the art of finding a middle ground, raised instead to swing violently from one extreme to the other, never settling, never really knowing how he felt.

He'd just seen Harley break down before him, but that wasn't what shook him. Tommy had spent his life standing witness to the collapse of a congregation, men and women falling under the hardship of grief. His waking hours were saturated with the grief of those he had once known, his hands soaked with their tears. He'd felt the tremor of earth and man alike torn asunder; they all bled the same. If there was one thing that Tommy knew, it was blood. He knew the way it dripped like hot wax, the heat of it against his fingertips, the penny tang of it on his tongue. He knew that whether it was spreading through bed linen, combat green or desert sand, it was all the same.

No, it wasn't her breakdown that had him frozen in the middle of the road. When Harley had scrawled her phone number across his forearm before leaving that night, Tommy had scrambled for some semblance of clarity of what this meant to him. He stood far too long in the falling night, arm upturned as if her pen was still scratching across his skin, staring at the blue ink of the odd string of numbers.

Despite it all, he still yearned for connection. He ached for someone to _be_ there. Sometimes he wanted it so bad that it would choke him in his sleep and he would wake, gasping and shaking from the cold truth that he was alone and would always be alone. How could he ask someone to walk behind him when he left nothing but ruin in his wake? To be with him was to skirt the edges of death and not even man trained to kill could condemn someone so absolutely.

But Harley - _fuck_. She was just a young girl, barely in her twenties, and already she had one hand behind the curtain, fingernails turning black. So quickly she had let her cracks show, too easily she had let him put her back together… she was so young, so innocent - too innocent for him to stain her with his bloodied hands but she had tied red string around his wrists, binding them together.

How long, he wondered, before it became a noose and her china doll neck would shatter from the weight of his demons? He would remain; there was no doubt about that. He had a habit of being the last one standing, cursed with the immortality of survival. Yes, he would live on through whatever tragedy Harley would suffer, continuing on without substances, just his old boxing gloves and a knot of red string in his pocket.

And yet he couldn't turn away. There was something about that woman that got under his skin, messing with his reason. She was a speck of sunlight through thick smoke and he had been breathing in the fumes for too long. Where he bore gaping wounds, she had only shallow fractures and he'd be on the field long enough to know that you could fix that, easy.

Was that what he wanted to do? Fix her? He didn't know. Maybe there was still that part of him that was desperate to believe that there was more to life that grave dirt. Perhaps there _was_ one person that could sidestep the noose, loosen the anchor, and with her soft lips and bright eyes, he wanted that person to be her.

When he washed the ink off his arm in the shower, pink raised lines were left behind. They'd faded the next day but he could still picture the numbers as if she had tattooed them there, so no matter how long he procrastinated, he had no excuse but to pluck up the courage and call her.

 _"Hello?"_ She sounded distracted and Tommy could hear cars and wind in the background as if she was walking. He swallowed, ran a hand through his hair and decided to just put himself out there, just for once.

"Hey, Harley, it's, uh, it's Tommy." There was a small pause on the other end and a million scenarios, most of them bad, ran through Tommy's mind in the space it took Harley to respond.

" _Oh, hi!_ " she chirped, sounding happier. " _I'm really glad you called! For a while there, I didn't think you would,_ " she said with a small laugh.

"Of course I was gonna call." _Was he?_

" _Well… good. I'm glad I haven't scared you off yet._ " She laughed again, sounding a bit awkward, and he knew she was recalling last night. He relaxed a little when he realised that she felt as out of her depth as he did.

"You've still got time," he teased, shamelessly wanting to hear her laugh again, pleased when she did.

" _What, is it a 'three meltdowns and you're out' kinda deal?_ "

"Eh, I'll give you four, 'cause you're cute." He had no idea where that came from but fuck it, he'd said it, he was going with it.

" _You're not bad yourself,_ " she retorted, a tad shy. When he hesitated, she continued. " _So, did you call me for a reason or did you just want to shower me with compliments for the fun of it?_ " There she was, that mischief back in place now that they had found their equilibrium.

The only thing was, he didn't really have a concrete reason to call her: 'to hear the sound of your voice' was something you kept to the seventh or eighth date, not ten minutes into whatever the hell their 'thing' was called. He hesitated, frantically trying to come up with a pragmatic answer. As the silence grew longer, he got more nervous, until he landed on the last idea to run through his head.

"Well, um, I'm lookin' for places, y'know, to live, an' was wonderin' if ya wanted to tag along?"

Harley stifled a laugh. She could practically taste his awkwardness, the way he struggled to act like he was completely comfortable in their impromptu little tête-à-tête, and it relaxed her somehow. He was a breath of fresh air in a world of smog, a pause in the constant rush of her life. Knowing that this was all new to him was comforting, reassured her that he was a good guy. She didn't know who he was or where he'd been, but she wanted to find out. There were secrets stuffed into his stitching, but if he'd let her, she had the patience to unpick every one.

" _Yeah, sure!_ " She didn't dare hide her enthusiasm, guessing correctly that Tommy needed every bit of encouragement she could give him that this was _okay._ He cleared his throat and Harley imagined that he was smiling.

"Okay, um, good. I've got a viewin' on Thursday if you're, er, if you're free?" Tommy cursed his sudden inability to spit out a fucking sentence.

" _Yeah, definitely! Just send me the address and time, and I can meet you at yours?_ " Tommy agreed a bit too quickly, his fingers tapping a nervous tune on his thigh as they said their goodbyes. When Harley hung up, he stared at the phone in his hand for too long before placing it delicately on the bedside table.

It felt as if he was hanging from a precipice, gazing into something he couldn't colour. Talking to her felt like slowing after a sprint, breathing hard, heart racing but endorphins running. Maybe he was just latching on to the first person outside his fucked up family to show him attention, maybe he was just so desperate to escape the death lurking on his shadow that he would drown himself in the first thing to feel like _life_ \- maybe this was all a big fucking mistake, but he couldn't help but think, _what if?_

What if it was time to move past the graveyard he'd been living in, to let himself believe in the possibility of there being something _more_ than this life he'd condemned himself to, these four walls and the smell of burning. He was the last one left and, God help him, maybe that meant something. Tommy had never believed in second chances but he knew that if there was one out there for him, it was in Harley.

* * *

A hand on her shoulder startled Harley from her dream. It dispersed quickly as she sat up, groggily blinking at the face before her that she took a while to place.

"Sorry to disturb you," the man said and she shook her head, yawning as she swept her hair back into a ponytail. As her head cleared, she realised this was her mother's consultant and she immediately sat up straight.

"Doctor Warren! I'm sorry, I was expecting you until tomorrow." The man smiled, crows feet crinkling around the corner of his eyes.

"I thought since I was here, I'd see how everything was going. I've been looking at her chart, but wanted to hear from you." Harley shrugged, turning to look down at her slumbering mother, studying the way her hair coiled across the standard issue pillow, fingers twitching as she dreamed. Lily seemed younger in sleep, peaceful.

"The same, really. Apparently she's been building up a tolerance to the meds, so her hallucinations have been coming back, and her paranoia. She keeps going on about mics and cameras - I had to check all the cupboards and the wardrobe this morning, just so she would let the nurse change over her IV."

"I expected as much. In order to keep her stable, she requires a mix of anti-depressants, anti-psychotics and mood stabilisers, all of which she is reacting less and less to. If we keep upping the dosage, she's going to start losing parts of herself. That's something you're going to need to start asking yourself, Harley. Where do you think the balance lies?"

Harley sighed, dragging her fingers through her hair as she let the doctor's words sink in. It wasn't the first time she'd spoken to him about how far she should go with keeping her mother medicated. Her mind was so splintered that she needed so much to keep her calm, and her personality would start to drift away like wisps of summer cloud. Did she keep her sedated and watch her mother turn into a vegetable, or did she pull away from meds and watch her soar and drop like a rollercoaster, believing she could become the next President one day then trying to hang herself the next.

"Look, Harley. I'm going to tell you this because I know you can handle it, and you need to start coming to terms with it: Lily is not going to get better. She has suffered horribly and no matter the treatments she's undergone, either here or back home, she is not responding to them and us keeping her full of drugs all day isn't going to help that. Your mother is very ill, both mentally and physically, and she is always going to be that way - there isn't much we can do for her anymore except make her comfortable - something that is going to cost you a lot of money. Money I don't expect you have." He took a deep breath as Harley leant on the bed railing, head in her hands. It was hard, but he knew he had to carry on. "Really, there are only two options here: either you need to completely hand her over to the pysch institute, or you need to take her home."

"But I don't have anywhere to take her to," Harley whispered, and she was appalled at the way her throat closed up, making her voice break, "and I can't put her in an asylum, I just can't." The doctor sighed and squeezed the girl's shoulder.

"It's a psychiatric institute, not an asylum, and they're good, supportive places," he gently chided, wishing, as he always did, he could do more to help. "If you're planning on staying in Pittsburgh, you're going to need to decide what you're doing - and I recommend that you do stay. Your mom isn't fit for travel, especially not international. We can keep her here as long as you need, but I strongly suggest you decide on your next option."

Harley nodded, miserable, and the doctor nodded to himself before leaving her alone, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

"What would you do, if it was me?" Harley wondered, brushing her fingers through Lily's mahogany hair. Shaking her head, she stood up and turned away from the bed. The clock on the wall said that it was getting near the time that Tommy said her to meet him, and she didn't want him to see her get upset again. It had been horrific enough the first time.

With not that long to go, she ducked into the small en suite bathroom that was off her mother's room and quickly freshened up her makeup, dragging a brush through her wild hair in a futile attempt to tame it. She was dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt, not the flashiest of outfits but she was too drained to put much thought into it.

Harley kissed her mum's forehead, and threw a hurried goodbye over her shoulder to the nurses as she rushed out to her car. It didn't take her long to drive round to Tommy's, and she suspected he'd been waiting for her seeing how he opened the door half a second after she'd knocked. She said hello and Tommy just smiled a little, making a weird kind of shiver tumble down her spine, like she was nervous and excited all at once. They didn't really say much as they made the way to his car and as soon as they clambered inside, Tommy switched on the radio to save them from any awkward silence. Some small talk was attempted but when it was obvious that they were both lying through their teeth, they stopped.

Luckily it didn't take long to arrive at the small flat on the outskirts of town. It looked pretty nice from the outside and better on the inside: plainly decorated with decent sized rooms and only a few things that needed fixing. The landlord seemed pleasant enough, happily showing them around as he explained that he had used to live there with his wife but now that she was pregnant, they had moved somewhere bigger and were looking to bring in a bit of income. Still, Tommy didn't seem to be overly impressed though Harley liked the character the place seemed to hold.

"It's further out than I wanted," Tommy grumbled as he looked out the living room window. Harley leant on the wall next to him, watching the way he clenched and unclenched his jaw saw he thought.

"Don't get it then," she said with a shrug. Tommy sighed, glancing at her.

"I gotta move out," he said more to himself than her, expression sombre. She thought of his dad, the way they had moved around each other, trying to keep that perfect distance.

"Not happy at home?" Harley asked, intrigued. Tommy scoffed and stood up straight, looking down at her with a frown.

"Nah. It's too crowded in there, him an' me…" _and the ghosts that hid around each corner._

"Tell me about it," Harley agreed, offering a little bit of empathy in the only way she could, "living out of a hospital room and on someone else's couch makes you crave just one place to call your own." She laughed a little, shooting him a warm smile when he seemed to appreciate rather than reject her attempt to connect.

"I feel that," he murmured, taking another look around. The place wasn't too bad, nicely sized and well furnished. He had a car, so really the dsitance thing wasn't an issue, it would just cost more for gas but it wasn't like he was completely strapped for cash. Brendan had given him some at the end of the fight and though most of that had gone to Pilar, he'd kept a small amount for a situation just like this. When he'd come back to the 'Burgh, he hadn't expected to move into his Pop's house, just wanted to utilise his special set of 'skills' before the match. Now that it was all over and done with, he was desperate for his own place in the city.

"Hmm. I'll think 'bout it," he said and Harley nodded, moving towards the door. When he didn't follow straight away, she held out her hand for him to take and his hesitation was barely noticeable as he took it. She smiled bright and guided him out while he just focused on the sensation of her hand in his, smooth fingers against his rough callouses, warm and firm. When she pulled away to get into the car, he held back a small pout, aware of how stupid he was being. Still, he couldn't deny how much he enjoyed the closeness so as he got the car back onto the road, he quickly made up his mind and moved his hand from the steering wheel to her thigh, just above the knee.

Harley stopped mid sentence - he couldn't even recall what she'd been saying - and looked down at his hand before turning her gaze to him, clearly taken aback. Fearing that he was being too forward, he went to remove his hand but Harley placed hers over his before he could. She opened her mouth to say something then changed her mind and instead leaned her head against the window, opting for an air of nonchalance. Tommy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled, appreciating her insight.

During the drive, Tommy found himself thinking once more about _what if._ The naturalness of their touch, the ease of which they navigated their quiet rules, the gentle fire that was beginning to smolder between them - it wasn't enough. He wanted more. Just this small taste of her and he was already addicted, bordering on fearful of being left bereft if she came to her senses, if she looked too close at his fine print.

Thing was, she was so deserving, made for the likes of a hero to sweep her off her feet and offer the world, radiant and peaceful. He was surprised she wasn't already tied up in such a reality, someone praying at the altar of her feet - and he started to think about what relationships she had already experienced. Had she been someone's girlfriend before? Did she want to be his?

Girlfriend. The word was foreign to him. He had never been worthy of such a thing, knew he wasn't worthy of it now. His brother had been a boyfriend, Manny had been one, lots of the guys in his units had been, but not him. To have someone that was completely yours, someone to see the good and the bad, he couldn't imagine a world in which someone would want to take that on, not for him.

But then, here was Harley, sat hand in hand. Maybe he was jumping the gun a bit, maybe she didn't feel that way about him in the slightest, but… maybe she did. She'd kissed him, more than once, and here she was now. Here she was.

Tommy glanced over at her again. Maybe girlfriend was a bit strong, but he wanted to be in his life, to be _his._ It was a strange feeling, to want someone _alive_ so much. He was used to wanting the dead, but not Harley. She was light and life and laughter, the lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was scared.

But… a relationship? He didn't know how to do that shit, the only thing he did know was that he would let her down. Again and again until she finally got sick of him and would leave, fulfilling the prophecy that haunted him. Manny had said that things like _sharing_ and _honesty_ were key to a healthy relationship, but how the fuck could he expose this woman to his truth?

He was jumping ahead again. They had spent barely any time with each other and he was already panicking about being in a relationship. Harley might not even want to be in a relationship with him. Maybe she was just being nice. Maybe she was seeing someone else. Unable to help himself, Tommy frowned at the thought. He knew that he had no right to know, to be bothered if she _was_ seeing someone but he couldn't stop himself from picturing her sharing some stranger's bed, taking off her clothes -

"Tommy? Are you okay?" Harley's voice startled him out of his masochistic thoughts and brought him back to reality. His fingers tightened on her thigh before he forced them to relax, taking a deep breath through his nose.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied quietly, jaw tight. Harley frowned, not believing him.

"Are you sure?" Tommy sighed, not replying until he pulled up in front of his father's apartment. He turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm just thinkin' 'bout… 'bout us." The words may have been forced out through gritted teeth but he was smart enough to realise he was going down a dangerous path. It wouldn't be fair on himself or her to keep her in the dark.

"Okay," Harley replied, drawing out the word. "That sounds awfully serious. What type of 'us' were you thinking about?" She realised belatedly that she had on her 'sensible voice' but she was feeling a little bit out of her depth; she couldn't discern the expression on Tommy's face and it had her on edge.

"I was thinkin' 'bout where we're goin', y'know?" He cleared his throat, ridiculously nervous, not able to catch her eye just yet. "An' how serious this is. Is this goin' somewhere or are we just messin' around?"

"Well, I don't think we're messing around," Harley said slowly. "I don't think we're really doing anything yet… I didn't even realise there was an 'us'." Tommy deflated a little and she rushed to explain. "Not that I don't want there to be an 'us', I do… I just think that we should sit and talk about this properly. Just… not in a car." Her words not quite reassuring him but still determined to see this through, Tommy gestured over his shoulder.

"Wanna come in? Pop's out." Harley smiled and nodded, biting her lower lip as she turned to get out. Tommy watched her go before joining her, hyperaware of her presence at his side as they walked to the front door in silence.

There was nowhere left for them to run. It was time for them to show their hand and they were terrified. Yet, they couldn't stop themselves from hoping that maybe, just maybe, there was something beautiful in the making. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 3rd July 2016. This chapter's quote is by Dostoyevsky.


	7. until i found you

forever alone until i found you

and now you're always there

voice in the air, scent on my clothes -

but when the sun exposes all my demons

will you stay or run away?

**\- 7 -**

* * *

His house smelled like stale coffee and bleach. When the lights blinked on, they were harsh, too white, cutting through the shadows that crawled beneath the aged furniture. Dust coated every surface, hung unmoving in the air like a haze, obscuring the flat faces of empty photo frames that were lined up like obituaries on the side table. Everything was still as if the house was waiting, waiting.

When Harley stepped onto the threadbare carpet, Tommy stared at her like she was an intruder. Uncomfortable, she turned to survey the hallway, her gaze snagging on the patchwork wall by the staircase, squares and rectangles of paisley wallpaper paler than the rest: ghosts of where photos used to be, faces that were no longer welcome. There was a coat stand by the corner that had one hook broken off, and the understairs cupboard looked to have been kicked in a long time ago.

"It's nice," she found herself saying, the compliment bleak at best. Tommy didn't even bother to humour it as he watched her appraise his home, learned eyes spotting her discomfort like she was a target and he was lining up his shot. Then, as if suddenly remembering who she was, he took her jacket and hung it over the bannister.

"Want a drink?" he asked her, sounding solemn. Harley sucked in a breath, the sound rattling around the hallway like a copper penny in a beggar's tin, and clenched her fists tight. The amicable air between them was curdling in the cold, Tommy visibly withdrawing from her and she knew she had to grab onto him lest he bow out before they even sat down.

"Sure! Coffee, if you have any?" He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen without indicating where she should go. Feeling silly lingering by the front door, she wandered into the living room that looked out onto the dark, empty street, and perched on the corner of the lone couch. The leather squeaked as she pulled her legs up underneath her, folding in on herself in that way she did so well.

Tommy entered in silence, the steam of her drink wisping around his jawline like smoke, and Harley thought that he looked too big for the room, too much for the four walls. He handed her the coffee and sat down next to her, keeping his feet firmly on the ground. Perhaps she should have thanked him for inviting her in, but it sounded false even in her head so she kept her mouth shut, deciding instead to watch him. Or, rather, observe him.

It was clear to see that he was not in his natural habitat. It might have been his house but it was not his home, moving as he did through the space like he was a guest, afraid to settle, afraid to leave a mark. She wondered what stories were hidden here, in the depths of the brick and mortar.

"Is this your childhood home?" Harley was intrigued when Tommy's gaze snapped to her with a trained precision, that deep expanse of grey blue threatening to swallow her whole.

"Yes." There was a warning in his tone, though it was more habitual than anything, Harley decided, and she was struck at how a whole lifetime lay buried within that single word, spoken with such acrid articulation it made her toes curl.

"It is just you and your dad that live here?" She thought of the man that answered the door to her, face like a history book, voice like gravel, and she watched as Tommy's lips pursed for the briefest of seconds.

"Yes."

"Have you always lived here? When you weren't with the Marines, I mean."

"No." Jesus, Harley thought. Maybe she should stop. It was barely ten minutes in and he was drawing up the boundary marks, leaving very little room for her to stand. Maybe she should stop, but she thought that whatever there was between them deserved better than that.

"Ah, right. Did you move as a family?" Tommy twitched, her questions burrowing like parasites into his flesh. He hesitated, breath hissing between his teeth as he tried, tried to be normal but then Harley tilted her head, brows furrowing in a sympathetic kinda way and he stopped trying so hard.

"Depends what you call family." Harley's lips quirked, pleased at the little teases she was getting, so she decided to play fair.

"Hmm. Okay. Your turn." She wasn't exactly an open book but clearly she was more used to this game of give and take than he was.

"Huh?" His confused expression made her grin, and shrugged, shifting on the seat to get comfortable.

"This ain't the Spanish Inquisition, honey," she said lightly. "You get a turn." Tommy watched her for a moment, weighing up his thoughts before turning the tables.

"Why'd you come here?" Harley raised an eyebrow at his choice of question, a little taken aback at the ruthlessness of getting straight to the heart of the matter, but knew that if she was going to get anything out of him, she had to lead the way.

"I already told you... mum was born here. She was desperate to go back to where she grew up and since the best hospital for her type of care isn't far, I made it happen." She was as open as she thought the situation deserved and watched how Tommy tried to read between the lines, though it didn't reveal more than what he already knew: her mother was sick. So he tried again.

"How you long you gonna stay?" Oh, well. Wasn't it obvious? She felt like she had it plastered on her forehead, an anchor tied around her chest that she carried everywhere she went and my god, wasn't it obvious? She hadn't offered the information before, she avoided the subject, but who the hell takes their sick parent halfway across the world to stick them in a hospital for a goddamn vacation?

"I can only be here for three months because of my ESTA." 

"That's not what I meant." Tommy tilted his head, mimicking her earlier action in an almost mocking manner.

"What did you mean?" She knew what he meant and was dumbstruck. Was he so cruel? She thought of the way he'd held her, he'd kissed her, the broken skin of his knuckles after he'd defended her, and she didn't understand.

"You know what I mean." His tone made her sit back, nails digging into her palms, expression hard.

"Is this how's it going to go?" she asked in return after a long pause, words like glass. Tommy clenched his jaw and looked away, trying to ignore the alarm bells that were burning in the back of his throat. When he said nothing, Harley put down her coffee and leaned forward like she was eager to a share some otherwordly secret, the weight of her gaze forcing Tommy to turn back to her. It was then she smiled, and it was beautiful, radiant, but it held no warmth. Tommy felt struck to the bone, unsure whether it was the smile of prey resigned to being devoured, or the smile of the predator, hungry for blood.

"You want to know whether I brought my mother here to die, is that it? To be honest, I don't know. The illness isn't terminal but she wants to die so who knows whether I'll have a travelling partner on the way home. I guess I'll have to get back to you on that one, if that's okay with you."

Not even waiting for him to acknowledge her words, Harley swung her legs round and stood up with a grace that seemed more deadly than her rage. Without looking back, she left for the front door.

It took Tommy a second to realise what he had just done, the reality of the situation startling him as if he was waking from a dream, and he sprang from the couch to grab her wrist. She was radiating fury but her bones were slender and delicate beneath his calloused fingers, and he was suddenly very afraid of how badly he had hurt her. When she tried to pull away, he used his other hand to gently twist her around to face him.

"Harley, I'm - I'm sorry," he said - begged - the words leaving him in a rush. "I don't know what I was doin'."

"You were trying to prove a point!" she exclaimed, and he realised her hands were shaking. In the stark light of the hallway, she seemed very young. "I don't know what you want from me, Tommy. One minute you're kissing me in the street, the next you're trying to push me away. I'm not your emotional rag doll and if you're going to treat me like one, then I'm gone."

Tommy moved his grip from her wrist her to her hand and tugged her close. This wasn't something he was comfortable with in any sense but the idea of her just walking out that door and not coming back made him panic. He couldn't let her go, not even if it costed him the truth.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, trying to shake off the chains that held him. "Seein' you here, in this place… you don't belong here, you're so much better than this shithole and I just - you're so much more than me, than all this…" The words were thick, sticking in his mouth like sawdust and he didn't know how to say it, but then Harley sighed, shaking her head.

"You wanted to bring me down." Her anger sparked like an electric flame, scaling Tommy's skin but he refused to let go, preferring to suffer her fire than the ice of the absence that haunted these halls. He realised that beneath her fury was a bottomless sorrow that he had forced her to swallow, and he wanted her to know that he knew, he knew that taste of it well.

"I don't tell people shit, Harley, I don't spill my sob story like some goddamn chick flick, but you were just takin' it from me so easy and I…" He trailed off, took a breath. "I don't let people in, Harley. I don't talk t' people, I don't have 'em over for coffee, I don't show 'em this - any of this. But here you are, makin' me do it anyway." Harley sighed, swiping her hair out of her face.

It was then that Tommy noticed how her makeup was smudged, purple circles heavy beneath her eyes that were red from lack of sleep, face gaunt and pale beneath the artificial light. She looked so small braced in his shadow and yet there was strength in how she held herself on the verge of shattering but refusing to break. It was like seeing her for the first time and he thought her beautiful.

"Neither do I, you know. Let people in," Harley replied pointedly, sounding irritated now rather than angry. "It's hard, I get it, but I want to be with you." She looked away, embarrassed, and Tommy smiled despite himself. "I'm not expecting your life story right away but you've got to work with me here. I can't do this by myself."

"You won't have to," Tommy promised quietly, determined to end the vicious circle he had fallen into. There he was, standing before a brilliant flame, a light in his shadow, and he had been ready to extinguish her fire because of, what, jealousy? Was he so far gone that he would tear her down so heartlessly, after everything she had given him?

Seeing her standing there, so clean and pure amongst the filth and rubble of his past, he had felt that broken part of him twist, and like a jealous child he had tried to take from her what he couldn't have. He had wanted to hear her say it: admit that she was at the mercy of her mother's death, trapped in a long, slow procession towards the graveyard. For the smallest, darkest of moments, he had wanted to see that light dim, all because he had been desperate for someone else to feel his pain.

Harley, in all her beauty and grace, had breezed into his home with a face full of pity and mouth full of charity, moving over the floorboards that were stained with his mother's blood realising they had picked the wrong house. Tommy had seen her pluck out missing photographs, scrunch her nose up the stench of bleach, appraising what she saw and finding it wanting. She had expected more and he hadn't delivered, and just for a minute, he had loathed her for her disappointment. What right did she have, he asked himself, to act like she knew better? There was tragedy in her wake but she controlled the shift of it so well that she seemed almost at ease. Yet here he was, the years he spent growing up in this house carved into the walls and she had expected him to decipher his child's scrawl; and where she had confused his invitation into his house as an invitation in his life, he had confused her courage for arrogance.

And so, yet again, Tommy had erected his defences too quickly and nearly smothered out the one light that he had in his life. If he had just thought about it for two seconds, he would have known that Harley didn't feel like she was superior to him. He had seen her break, held her in his arms as she crumbled within herself and the sound of her crying had wrenched at him, so why he had so quickly pushed her towards breaking point again was beyond him.

"You don't have to tell me everything, you don't even have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I just - I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Tommy, and I won't judge you for it. If you need someone to just listen, I'm here." Harley looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Who is this girl? Tomy asked himself. He ached to find out.

Discarding the last of his doubts, Tommy cupped Harley's jaw, his thumb raising her chin so that he could look her in the eye. She looked up at him from under thick eyelashes and her gaze was so full of hope that the words just came out without any effort at all.

"Ma died when I was eighteen. Cancer. It was just me an' her, my brother an' Pop were still here. We left to get away from Pop an' his drinkin'. When she died, I joined the Marines an' - an' when I left, I came back here. Been to warzones an' battlefields an' towns you don't even know exist, but I ain't really been anywhere. Just the same four walls that follow me no matter where I go."

The effect was instantaneous. The tension that had been gripping Harley's body vanished and her wary, anger-lined gaze softened into a sad yet warm smile. She tilted her head so that she was pressing against his hand and she lifted her own to run it through his messy hair. It was an intimate gesture, a gentle caress, and Tommy could only hope that she would do it again.

"I'm sorry about your mum. It's very brave of you to come back here to live with your dad, even if you had no other choice." She stopped and watched him for a moment; he wondered what she saw. "Anyway, we came here to talk about us, not our pasts." Tommy looked at her in surprise, having expected her to push the matter. Instead, she reversed their grip so that she was now holding his hand and she led him into his own living room. They sat back down on the couch and this time Harley crossed her legs and sat facing him.

"I'll go first this time. Right." She took a deep breath as if to steady her nerves then looked him dead in the eye. "This is probably hasty and reckless of me because I haven't known you for very long and I don't know you that well... but I feel like what I do know is more than enough. I was attracted to you the moment I walked through the gym door," she said without shame, a slight smile pulling at her lips. "I like when we hang out. I look forward to seeing you even if I do end up making a fool of myself sometimes. I like the way you talk, the way you smile, the way you laugh. I like how even when you're really pissed off, you're still crazy-polite, like you don't know how not to be. I like how you've got all this strength but you're never rough. I like the way you light up when you're with me, when no one else is looking."

It felt like there was a thunder storm taking place in his chest, lightening racing up and down his veins with a white-hot electricity, and all the while Harley was sat there smiling at him in that coy, mischievous, tired, warm way that she did and it was as if a flare had been lit in front of him, lighting up his darkened world with a fierce green light. In his foolishness, he had wanted to smother that fire but now it blazed so brightly before him and he wanted nothing more than to fan the flames.

Tommy's thoughts were endless but words were finite and they escaped him now; how could he vocalise the tumbling, burning, pouring hurricane that had suddenly erupted just from the way she looked at him? Instead, without thinking about what he was doing, Tommy launched himself forward so that Harley was pinned beneath him, one of his hands cupping the back of her head.

Harley's seawater eyes widened at his spontaneity but then he was pressing his lips against hers like the world was imploding all around them. Tommy kissed her with an almost animalistic ferocity; he kissed her like he was dying and she was his last chance at redemption. His body was hot against hers, burning through her skin as she arched up into him, arms wrapped around his neck so that she could pull him closer, and just for that moment, he and his touch were the sole reason for her existence. The Devil was in his lips, sinful and lusting and searching for more as he pressed them against her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, the bare skin of her breasts, and Harley thought that if this was Hell, even eternal damnation wouldn't suffice.

When they broke apart, Harley was breathing heavily, her chest heaving against the weight of him above her. Tommy kept staring into her eyes and she knew that he was waiting for a reaction, and that no matter how strong the man against her was, she had full control over him now: her next words would either make or break him. It was a power that tasted like his lips, that felt like his hand pressing into her side. She stared unabashedly back, unable to hide her smirk.

"And I really like that." Tommy grinned down at her and it sent her reeling, her thoughts moving through her like whiskey. "So is this happening? Are we...?" Tommy shrugged then lowered his head so that his lips brushed against hers.

"We are," he murmured, and he kissed her again, more tender than before. He kissed her like he meant it and in the end that was all she really wanted. She could feel her body reacting to his touch and when he adjusted his position above her, she could feel his react too, and yet he did nothing more than kiss her. Harley was pretty sure that she would have done anything he asked of her in that moment but he didn't move and so neither did she. Tommy pressed his face into her neck and raked his teeth across her skin, making her moan and writhe, and she could practically feel him smirk against her.

"Bastard," she gasped and he laughed before capturing her in a kiss once more, biting her bottom lip when she ran her nails down his muscled back. He was built to destroy, to take down any opponent, and yet here he was, hovering above her like she was his only reason to breathe.

When the fire got too much for either of them to stand, they sat up. They glanced around the room and as if looking through the same eyes, they saw that it was no longer so cold. Their heat had melted the ice and it seemed that things really did look better in candlelight after all.

They stayed on the couch for a while longer, Tommy playing with a lock of her hair while Harley gave them questions to answer. Both of them felt more comfortable than they had in a long time, and they were content with just finding out the little things. Harley spoke about her home city, her love for dance and how she regretted not finishing her degree, and Tommy told her about MMA, what it was like being a Marine, and how his talent for cooking was a closely-guarded secret. They talked about silly things, things that didn't really matter, but it was those little things that really made them who they were. It was things like favourite colours, guilty pleasures, laugh out loud moments and embarrassing memories that filled in the spaces around their pasts. They didn't know it yet, but as they shared the small things, they were slowly coming to realise that it wasn't their most tragic experiences that defined him: they were more than the things they had lost.

After a while, they drifted into comfortable silence. The cold had started to creep back in but they kept each other warm, and when Tommy next looked down, he found Harley asleep against his chest. She looked so calm and peaceful, the lines of her face smoothed out, and Tommy took a moment to watch her to just appreciate her stillness. Unable to bring himself to disturb her, Tommy carefully turned and slipped his other hand underneath her knees and brought her up into his arms. She stirred as he got to his feet but she didn't wake, and Tommy was able to walk through the house and gently lay her down onto his bed. He pulled his covers up over her shoulders and her breathing slowed, her body relaxing into slumber.

It was so very ordinary. There was a girl sleeping in his bed. They had talked and fought and kissed and talked some more. He had made her coffee and she had made him smile. He liked her; she liked him back. And that was it.

When his father came home, sober but sad, Tommy asked how he was doing. Paddy was surprised at the sincerity in his son's voice but didn't question it. He replied, a mixture of honesty and courtesy, and Tommy answered in kind. The coat over the banister didn't go unnoticed and when Tommy said that the girl from the night before was asleep in his bed because she'd had a long day, Paddy actually smiled. They slapped each other on the shoulder - awkward but passable - and bid each other good night. So very ordinary.

Tommy changed into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a plain t-shirt, then climbed onto Brendan's old bed. It didn't take him long to fall asleep listening the steady rhythm of Harley's breathing, and when his nightmares caused him to wake, it wasn't sand he saw but the smooth outline of Harley curled up in his bed. Her presence didn't keep the memories away but he found it easier to calm his panting when he knew that all he had to do was reach out and she would be there. Tommy lay back down and just as he was drifting off, he noticed that he couldn't smell the burning anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 25 August 2016. The quote in this chapter is from the song 'I'm Yours Tonight' by The Academy Is.


	8. in the midst of hell

 because the world is so full of death and horror

i try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers

that grow in the midst of hell

**– 8 –**

* * *

Watching her wake was like watching the sunrise and Tommy knew without a doubt that a new day had dawned. He wasn't surprised that he was the first to wake, and allowed himself a few quiet minutes to just rest in the presence of the woman in his room, before he moved to dress. Harley was serene in her slumber, one hand dangling from the side of his bed, her hair mussed and golden red for the sunlight that was beginning to peek through the curtains. Though he was mindful to be as quiet as possible, his movements in the enclosed space must have disturbed for she soon began to stir, stretching out like a cat lazing in the sun.

"Good mornin'," he murmured. His voice cut through her fading dreams and she blinked up at the ceiling, disorientated and bleary. It took her a moment to realise where she was before her eyes landed on Tommy and all the memories from the previous night came flooding back. Something warm uncoiled in the pit of her stomach and she smiled at him, excited by the prospect of having him in her life for good, the idea a pleasant distraction from more pressing things. She was still half-asleep and the knowledge that Tommy had evidently carried her to his bed to let her stay the night made her feel a bit giddy.

Tommy was taking in every single detail of the moment, trying to commit it all to memory in case it never happened again. The remains of her makeup from the day before were smudged under her eyes, her hair a tangled mess, and she had stripped off her leggings and bra sometime during the night. There was nothing chivalrous about the way his eyes darkened as she stood up, drinking in the sight before him like a thirsting man. Her plain black panties accentuated the length and smoothness of her bare legs, and he could easily make out the gentle curve of her breasts through the thin fabric of her loose shirt. Something began to ache deep down inside of him and despite all the fully naked women he had ever seen, Tommy thought she was the sexiest one he had ever seen.

In the meantime, completely oblivious to Tommy's thoughts, Harley had begun to picture just how horrid she was certain she looked. She was definitely not a morning person - unless morning happened to be around 1pm - and this definitely obvious from how much of a hot mess she was when she woke up. Her hand reached up to scope out her hair (crazy and knotted, great) and her face (stiff from leftover makeup, how attractive), and she didn't even want to imagine how foul her breath must have been since she hadn't brushed her teeth before falling asleep. Harley quickly turned away from Tommy to try and hide her face, and that's when she became aware of what little clothing she had on. Closing her eyes, she mentally pleaded for Tommy to leave because just how fantastic was it that the man she fancied the socks off was getting a front row seat to the shit show that was her morning face, only a few hours after deciding to be in an are-we-are-we-not relationship with her. This was losing her serious flirtation points.

"Can I, er, use your loo - er, bathroom, please?"

Tommy swallowed, shook his head a little to clear away the lustful images in his head, and directed her towards the bathroom. She thanked him without looking back and quickly shut the door in his face. He stared at it for a moment before turning to walk into kitchen, having decided on the spot that he was going to reveal his domestic side, just for her.

Cooking always made Tommy think of his mother, a bittersweet nostalgia that he enjoyed nonetheless. When he'd been a kid, his Ma had made him to stand with her in the kitchen so that he could watch and learn the motions of preparing dinner or baking a cake. It had taken him a while to get into it but by the end of it, he had looked forward to getting covered in flour, or sticking his hands into the mixing bowl. It always left him with a grin from ear to ear, a little thing that he alone had shared with his mom. When they'd left and she'd gotten sick, cooking had become his responsibility, though he still tried to find the fun in it, even when times got really rough. You'll make a good husband one day, his Ma had told him, eyes sparkling.

Which lead to Harley, once she had gotten dressed and tidied herself up a bit, emerging from the bathroom to be lured into the kitchen by the smell of bacon. Immediately perking up, she traipsed into the kitchen to find Tommy standing by the hob, flipping what looked to be French toast over in a frying pan. Not wanting to interrupt him, Harley leant against the doorframe to watch him work, unashamedly admiring the view. She enjoyed the way his body moved, all power and control, never a wrong move, the streamline of his musculature visible beneath his white vest. There was a promise resting beneath that flesh, one that she wanted to taste.

"You watch me a lot," Tommy said, startling her from her admiration. Being caught out didn't bother her and she loped over to stand behind him, moving up onto her tiptoes so that she could see over his shoulder. She leant comfortably against his back and he became very still as if bracing himself. Smiling, she rested her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his chest, taking great enjoyment at being able to do so.

Tommy could feel her breath on his neck which sent a shiver down his spine, and he forced himself to relax. There was nothing unnatural about the weight of her against him, the warmth from her skin against his, their closeness almost reassuring. As he finished up with the toast, he realised that he could be this person. No, he wanted to be this person.

"Do you want me to stop watching you?" Harley whispered in his ear and it was difficult to suppress his shiver. When she pressed her lips against his shoulder blade, he revelled in the gentle intimacy of the moment. Harley hummed, enjoying the way he was so warm and solid beneath her touch, feeling unbelievably safe despite it all.

"Plates, cutlery?" she asked him when he didn't reply, the barest hint of teasing in her tone. Tommy hesitated, automatically forming the words to tell her that he would take care of it and that she should just sit down, but if she kept touching him like that, he would going to burn something. So, he quickly told her where she could find what was needed, and he relaxed as she moved away to lay the table.

When they finally sat down to eat, Harley made such a show of enjoying her food that Tommy couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh my God, this is amazing!" she exclaimed, mouth full of toast and bacon. Tommy could only shrug, not used to being praised, though he was still smiling even as he tidied away their plates. When his back was turned, Harley jumped up and began to gather up the dishes and pans he'd used to cook breakfast, insisting that it was only fair when Tommy began to protest.

"You cook, I clean," she chirped, filling the sink up with warm water.

"You're a guest," Tommy argued but she just did a little half shrug, half wiggle as she flicked her hair out of her face.

"Then I better mind my manners, shouldn't I?" Tommy rolled his eyes, having a feeling he should get used to letting her have her way. Sensing his surrender, Harley shot him a cheeky and triumphant grin over her shoulder as she moved the washed frying pan onto the drying rack.

"Bossy," he muttered, prompting her to flip up her middle finger with a haughty expression, though the effect was greatly diminished by the soap suds that slid lazily down her arm. Tommy snorted so she flung a palm full of dirty water at him, laughing as he effortlessly dodged her attack only to grab hold of her, his hands resting on her hips. Undeterred, Harley stuck her wet hands onto his chest, to which Tommy responded by dunking his hand in the sink and throwing a pile of bubbles onto her face, snickering when she squealed. Spotting an easy takedown, he quickly snuck his hands up her shirt, placing them flat on her back so that she arched into him to avoid the damp.

"Truce?" he asked innocently as she squirmed against him, pouting slightly. Harley's answer was to grab Tommy by the front of his top and pull him down so that their mouths met with an eager fury, providing suitable distraction from their makeshift water fight, as well as causing bubbles to stick to Tommy's stubble which Harley found almost too cute to be true.

Tommy was taken aback for a moment but then it registered that she was kissing him and so he started to move his lips against hers, his hands snaking down to cup her thighs for a moment before he lifted her up and placed her on the counter. Water soaked through her leggings but Harley didn't even notice because he started to trail burning touches down her jaw and neck, gently sucking on her skin and grazing his teeth against it as he pressed his fingertips into her back, his thumb coming round to stroke under the edge of her bra. In response, Harley wrapped her legs around his waist, linking them at the ankle, and she could feel him pressing against her - and it was silly but even that slight pressure made her breathless and hot and lost in his depths, and suddenly she was drowning in him, his searching, strong hands the only thing keeping her from crumbling. She moaned, perhaps too loudly for that time of the morning, but Tommy only let out a wordless grumble against her neck in response and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her pulse point, feeling the rush of her heartbeat beneath his lips. He felt drunk, somewhere between being grounded and weightless, as if he were caught in the tide that dragged him back and forth against the shore. It made him feel powerful and small all at once, and he wasn't sure who was holding up who anymore. He wanted to touch her, taste her, hear her scream his name, and his fingers travelled up to her bra clasp, ready to strip her of that shirt when he sensed movement behind him.

"Jesus, fuck," Harley cursed as she spotted their audience over Tommy's shoulder; quickly she uncrossed her legs and pushed at Tommy's chest so she could slide off the counter. Her cheeks went pink and she swallowed nervously, looking away from the man who was standing in the kitchen doorway watching the couple with an unfathomable look. Tommy moved his grip so that his hands were gently resting on Harley's waist, and he turned to face his father, not yet sure whether he was annoyed or embarrassed at the interruption.

"Sorry, I - I came to get some coffee," Paddy said quietly. Tommy nodded and stepped to the side, bringing Harley with him so that she was kept half out of sight at all times, though he wasn't really sure why he felt the need to. Paddy hesitantly walked across towards the coffee pot and began to pour himself a cup; the tension in the air was tangible and a million degrees of awkward.

"So, um, you're the girl from the other night." It was a rocky start but the old man was trying to make conversation and even though Harley wanted nothing more than to scarper, he looked too sad and worn for her to ignore.

"Yes, Sir, I am," she replied even though it wasn't a question, half out of habit, half out of politeness. After all, if she was hoping to remain in Tommy's life for the foreseeable future, it wasn't a bad idea to play nice with his dad. Tommy glanced down at her, watching the way she held herself, the way her lips shaped around her pale words.

"And you stayed the night?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You with Tommy?" Harley sneaked a look at the man in question whose his features had set in a hard, defensive line; she smiled.

"Yes, Sir." Her quick response took Tommy by surprise and his expression softened when he gazed down at her, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of his lips which were still slightly swollen from their fierce, eager kissing. Paddy gave them a meagre wave as he disappeared upstairs and the pair waited a moment until they heard his door close before moving. Harley couldn't help it and burst out laughing, slightly hysterical as she threw her face into her hands and shook her head in disbelief.

"I felt like we were teenagers!" she exclaimed and Tommy laughed, ruffling her hair before moving away. He quickly wiped a cloth over the counter to soak up all the water they had splashed around while Harley straightened her clothing, still blushing from the encounter with Tommy's father. In a weak attempt to change the subject, she asked Tommy what he was planning on doing for the day.

"Gonna go check in at the gym," he told her, throwing the damp cloth into the sink. "Need a lift somewhere?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I better go see my mum for a bit, make sure she's okay. Erm, thanks for letting me stay over," she said, coming over a tad shy. Tommy just smiled.

Half an hour later, Harley leaned over to drop a kiss onto Tommy's check before she climbed out of the car. He didn't move or reciprocate the gesture but when he leant his forearms on the steering wheel as he watched her walk up to the hospital entrance, he noticed the little swagger in the sway of her hips, the way her shoulders were held back and her back straight. Harley was determined to have a good day and dammit, so was he.

It seemed that Harley's good mood was catching. When she arrived at the ward, there were no screams echoing through the halls, the lights seemed softer and the scent of disinfectant was less noticeable than usual - even the nurses were smiling as she approached them.

"She's good today," one said, gesturing towards Lily's room. Harley's heart swelled a little in hope and she hurried over to the doorway, only to stop dead when she saw her mother sitting up against the headboard, a book in her hands.

"Mum?" she called, timid. Lily looked up and gave her daughter a smile so bright.

"Come here, gorgeous girl," she beckoned, moving her book to the side, and Harley stumbled forward, overwhelmed at the unexpected gift of seeing her mother so lucid and calm when she had told herself that such moments were gone. She lay her head on her mother's chest, wrapping her arms around her as tight as she dared and just held on for dear life.

"It's okay, honey, it's okay," Lily cooed, stroking her daughter's wild, messy waves, and for a little while, neither of them spoke until Harley couldn't hold it back any longer and began to weep. She scrunched her eyes up tight and the cries wracked through her, painful and exhausting.

"I miss you," she choked out, struggling to draw in enough breath to calm herself down. Lily continued to stroke her hair, dropping a gentle kiss on her temple as Harley pulled back enough to stare up at her mother.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. Things were never meant to turn out this way."

"I just - I just want you to be okay," Harley confessed, eyes burning as she dragged the back of her hand across them. Her throat was tight and it felt like there was something catching beneath her ribcage but there was joy here, joy that she had never expected to feel again.

"Baby, as long as you are okay, so am I. Don't worry about me, I've lived my life, I've had my time. You've got the whole world ahead of you, I don't want you to throw that away."

"But you're my mum, of course I'm going to take care of you, after everything you've done for me," Harley argued, not noticing when a nurse quietly closed the door, giving the pair some privacy.

"Harley, it doesn't matter where I am or where life takes you, I'm always going to be your mother. Nothing and no one on this good earth can change that, you know that." With her dark mahogany hair curling around her shoulders, her pale skin and dark eyes, Lily appeared to be more than her years, aged and ruined by the path she had walked but yet there was love and light within her gaze, untouched by the dark years of her life. Harley hoped that no matter what life threw at her, she would always find the same softness within herself.

"But, mum -"

"Baby, look at where you have been. You were always so defiant, so full of that wonderful fire I saw within you from the moment you were born. You did everything you could to keep us safe, to give us a good life, and I'm sorry that the responsibility of protecting this family feel on your shoulders, baby girl, but I am so proud of you. I always knew that you would find your way to better things."

Even as Harley buried her face in her hands, Lily kept her voice light but firm: she needed her daughter to know these things before the thoughts in her head were lost forever. The long war she had been waging against her own mind, against the things that broke it, was coming to an end and she needed Harley to hear the things she had never had the chance to say before - before it was too late.

"Just promise me one thing, okay? Don't ever give up. Don't let anyone take that fire away from you. People are going to be jealous of it, scared even, and are going to try to take it from you but don't ever let them - and one day, you're going to find someone you loves you and that fire, and you are going to have a beautiful, wonderful, happy life, you hear? Everything's going to be okay, Harley, it will. I know it."

Harley had nothing to say in response, could only wipe her tears and remember that she was determined to have a good day. Deciding to not ruin the moment, she picked up the book her mum had been reading and began to read it out loud, letting her mother close her eyes and drift away into a gentle sleep. For a brief second, Harley was terribly afraid to let Lily sleep for fear that she would never have a moment like this again, but then she thought that maybe it was okay. So she continued to read, long into the day.

It was a warm afternoon, the streets quiet. Harley had briefly considered calling Tommy for a lift as the distance from the hospital to anywhere of interest was sizeable but decided against it, thinking that the solitary walk would do her good. She took her time, appreciating the need not to rush.

Colt's apartment had been her original destination but it was closer to walk to the gym and she figured Tommy would be about finishing up when she passed by. Her timing was pretty much spot on as she arrived, stepping into the foyer just as he was walking out of the hall, his gym bag in his hand. Colt was visible from his office, gesturing angrily as he talked to someone on the phone. Ignoring him, Harley shot a smile at Tommy, liking the warm feeling she got when she looked at him.

"Hey," he greeted her, voice gruff, as he put a slightly damp around around her shoulders to pull her in for a quick kiss. Surprised but pleased at the easy intimacy, Harley slid her arm around his waist, revelling in the warmth he exuded.

"Hi. Good session?" she asked, catching sight of Colt turning in his seat to stare at them, the phone still plastered to his ear. She gave him a quick wave as Tommy guided them out the door towards his car, then heat in the air still lingering despite the fading light.

"Yeah, usual. You? How was… everythin'?" His sidestepping was sweet, endearing.

"It was, erm, good." Tommy glanced down at her tone, trying to judge what she was thinking.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded as they climbed into the car. "She was awake… and lucid. It's been a long time since we've actually been able to hold a proper conversation, y'know?"

Tommy did know. He remembered how his mom's grasp on reality had faded in and out towards the end: sometimes she would wake up in the night, not knowing where she was, who he was. She would call out for her husband, begging him to help her, and Tommy would be left, sitting on the cold floor, unable to tell his sick mother that Paddy of all people was not going to save her.

Except he couldn't say that, didn't know how to form the words, so instead he rested his hand on her thigh and squeezed a little. Harley laid her hand on top of his and he thought that maybe she understood. Looking out the window he saw that the sun was beginning to set, the golden reds and pinks blotting the sky and, with his mother still in mind, he had an idea. Without saying anything, he drove them to a little spot by the park where he'd come with his mom before they'd left.

"What's this?" Harley asked, intrigued. Tommy waited until he'd walked round to open her door to let her out, his hand resting automatically on the small of her back as he led them down to the stream, before he answered.

"I used to come here a lot with Ma," he replied as they picked out a bench. There was nothing around except green, the gentle gurgle of water that only thing to disturb them. "When we just needed to get away from it all. From him." He knew he didn't have to clarify for Harley to understand: their history had been hung like shredded banners within the confines of his childhood house.

"It's pretty."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed with a sigh. "It is."

They were silent for a long while, each of them sinking into self reflection as the sun sunk deep down behind the trees.

"It's an odd thing, watching the end come," Harley said a while later. Tommy startled, stared down at her. She was staring off into the distance and spoke as if she wasn't really there. "When you've been fighting against it for so long, but it comes anyway. And you kinda knew it would, deep down, but didn't ever admit it to yourself because then what would be the point in fighting?"

Tommy saw himself washing the sweat off his mother's forehead with a dirty cloth, shushing her pained whimpers as the landlord banged on the door. We're not here, he would whisper, only pennies in his pocket. We're not here, she would whisper back, blood dotting her blue lips.

"I've spent my whole life protecting her, keeping her safe, because she's my mum, and for a long time she was my whole world. There was always something… something I had to fight, always one thing after the other. And I would always win, in the end, but then the next thing would come along… and then the next thing… and here we are."

We're not here, we're not here. His mom would repeat that over and over until it would just sound, until she would choke on the words. Before he knew the weight of a gun in his hand, Tommy knew blood. He knew blood and sweat and would spent hours scrubbing at the bedsheets to get rid of it until his fingers were raw.

"After everything, I never really pictured a world where it was just me. I always had her, no matter what. The nurses keep calling me a 'survivor' but fuck that. I don't want to survive my mother, I don't want to be the last one left standing."

Blood and sweat and sand, and a pile of the dead that never stops burning. He could build a coffin with his eyes closed, could name every requiem in the hymn books because my god, he has sung them all.

"She asks me whether I think she'll go to Heaven." Harley huffs out a laugh, but it's hollow. "Like it matters what I think. If I had any say, she'd be the first one up there, ringing the damn bell to those pearly gates, but I can't bear the thought of believing in Heaven, I can't."

There were tiny bottles of holy water littering her bedside table, however many he could carry in his pockets. His Ma would pray for the Lord to help her, her arms stretching as far as they could reach towards the ceiling as if begging for Him to reach down and pluck her from the world, but not even the holy water would stifle her fever.

"I can't believing in Heaven because then I'd have to believe in Hell but how can I believe in the idea that there is a fate worse than this?"

There was a part of Tommy that furiously angry. He wasn't entirely sure why but the rage rose within him like a wave and he had to walk away. Harley didn't watch him go, just kept staring at the bubbling water, not quite sure whether she'd spoken at all, the words having appeared from nowhere. But she'd hurt Tommy somehow and with that realisation came an understanding.

Tommy was a survivor. Harley had lived a hard life but Tommy knew loss like it was his currency, paid in too many pounds of flesh. There, by the water and the trees, she could scent the death on him. It, and the painfully human instinct to overcome it, burned like incense. He walked with a weight no man should bear, and Harley wondered how many corpses he carried on his shoulder.

It took a while but he finally came back, sitting down next to her as if afraid she would starting shouting. He radiated emotion but Harley couldn't pinpoint which one, so entangled and ensnared they were within his skeleton that she wasn't sure even he knew.

"It's okay, I think, fighting an end you know is going to come," Harley said lightly, as if he had never left, though he knew she was speaking as much for him as for herself. "When I held my mum today, I realised something. It's not about winning the fight. It's about having something to fight for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 29 August 2016. The quote is by Herman Hesse from the book 'Narcissus and Goldmund'.


	9. even lovers drown

 a mermaid found a swimming lad

picked him for her own

pressed her body to his side, laughed;

and plunging down forgot in cruel happiness

that even lovers drown

**– 9 –**

* * *

It was getting late but the warmth lingered in the evening air, birds chirping and the water lapping at the bank. Harley’s words hung like autumn leaves caught in the breeze and Tommy’s anger crackled with a luminosity his dreams did not possess.

“There ain’t no fightin’ left for me,” he murmured. “Mine are all lost.” He stared hard at the landscape before him: the slope down into the water, the houses littered at the foot of the park, the clouds rolling in. He felt rather than saw Harley look at him then shake her head.

“That’s not true,” she argued. “ _Of course_ that’s not true. If you’ve lost the fight, then what the hell are you still here for?”

Tommy was surprised at the hurt that bloomed in his chest at her question and he quickly crossed his arms in defense of himself, uncomfortable with the spotlight she was shining onto him.

“Says someone who ain’t lost any,” he snapped back meanly, immediately feeling guilty when a wave of unbearable sadness flashed across her face.

“If only,” she breathed, before continuing louder. “Thing is, when you lose the fight, you just find another. Otherwise what’s the point, and there’s got to be a point, right? There’s got to be a reason for everything, for all this shit that gets thrown at us. There’s got to be a reason that someone as good and kind as my mum, who fought _so hard_ to survive, would be destined to live out her freedom in a hospital bed. Right? There has to be. _There has to be._ ”

Hearing the fervour with which she spoke, the passion in her voice that burned so fiercely, Tommy felt like such an ass having tried, yet again, to bring her down. Here she was, beaten so badly by a hard, unfair life, and yet she was still finding something to believe in despite it all, and even if he had given up believing in anything a long time ago, he was suddenly painfully afraid that she would lose that faith and crumble into the ash he had long since become accustomed. He wanted her to keep that innocence and so he forced himself to relax, letting his arms stretch across the bench behind her. Harley unabashedly turned into his chest and he pulled her close, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder as she leant against his.

“I know I talk a load of shit sometimes,” she said after a moment with a laugh and Tommy smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But I don’t think you really believe you’ve lost the fight. You’re a goddamn cage fighter! If anyone is fighting the good fight, it’s you.”

Tommy shook his head but didn’t disagree, not wanting to ruin the moment (again). Instead he just peered down at the girl in his arms. He didn’t know her history but there was too much hope within her for her to have experienced the loss that haunted him, and _fuck_ , was he thankful, but where was she heading? He had his past and she had her future, and there were one and the same - and what then? What would happen as she continued to travel this path she had been forced to walk, where would that hope go? When she no longer believed that there was some big purpose behind all the suffering, who would she become?

They hadn’t known each other for very long but already she was taking over him. Where he had nothing but ash remaining, she still _burned,_ forest green among the bleached sand that weighed in his dreams. She was perched perilously on the cusp of tragedy and he found himself desperate to keep her standing, keep her laughing and living and light. He had never known that he needed her in his life but now that she was here, filling every dark recess, he couldn’t be without her. If she had to believe there was a point to all this, then fine: he would be her reason, and where she emitted light, he would consume the dark, existing in unexpected balance.

And so, in less than a handful of seconds, Tommy had committed _everything -_ and Jesus, she didn’t even know. He studied her profile, the elegant curve her neck, the wild curl of her dark hair around her shoulders. His calloused fingers traced her jawline, making her shiver.

“I wanna take you out,” he told her, and she turned to look at him, surprised.

“What, like a date?”

“Yeah. I can do the romantic thing once in awhile,” he teased and she grinned, visibily happy.

“Okay, yeah! I haven’t been on a proper date in forever,” she gushed, and Tommy laughed, dropping a kiss onto the top of her hair, giving her a little squeeze. He still couldn’t quite believe how comfortable he was around her, how easy it was for him to be _that guy_ \- how badly he wanted to be him for her. “Where are you going to take me, then?”

“Leave that up to me,” he said, moving to a stand, pulling Harley up along with him. They walked like that back to the car, all entangled together, not quite ready to pull apart. It didn’t feel forced, which surprised both of them, so used they were to the lonely life; their hips jostled with each step, their fingers clasped, and Tommy felt like he had butterflies in his stomach (though he’d never admit that out loud) as if he was nervous and excited all at once.

The drive to Colt’s wasn’t long so when Tommy pulled up to the sidewalk, he let the car idle for a bit, his hand on top of where Harley’s rested on his thigh. When he looked over at her, he saw that the fire in her eyes had cooled, her expression closed as she stared distractedly out the window into the falling night.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?” Harley turned with a smile, running a hand through her hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about things.” At Tommy’s questioning quirk of an eyebrow, she continued. “It was really good seeing my mum today, being able to talk to her like normal, but it’s made me realise that I really need to decide what my next step is going to be. I’ve been procrastinating,” she said with a sigh, shrugging a little.

“Oh, hey, I was going to ask: what’s happening with the flat? I mean, apartment?” It was Tommy’s turn to sigh and shrug.

“I’ve been procrastinatin’ myself,” he told her. “I spoke with the landlord the other day an’ he’s still happy with my offer…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck as he thought about what he was going to do. Harley laughed after a moment, moving into his space to kiss his cheek.

“Look at us,” she giggled. “Weight of the world on our shoulders and neither of us can make a damn decision!” Tommy huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled Harley back to him before she could slip away, enjoying the way his hands fit against her waist, the sensation of her hair against his cheek. Their kiss started chaste but quickly heated, Harley’s arms wrapped around his neck and his hand splayed on the small of her back beneath her shirt, and it was only when the windscreen started to fog that Harley broke the kiss, hiding her face in the crook of his neck as she laughed.

“We’re making out like teenagers,” she exclaimed, her laughter infectious as Tommy let her sit back, unable to disagree.

“Ain’t it fun?” he drawled, enjoying the way her cheeks were flushed, pupils wide as she swallowed thickly, gazing at him hard. She licked her lips, Tommy’s eyes flicking down to stare at her mouth, and she laughed again, this time the sound a little husky.

“Oh, _definitely.”_ Then she winked and opened her door, taking a moment to lay her hand on his chest.

“For what it’s worth, I think you should take the apartment,” she said before getting out the car. Tommy leant across and grabbed her hand before she could straighten, holding her down long enough to retort.

“An’ I think you should stay.” Harley smiled, the heat replaced by genuine warmth, showing that she understood what he meant.

“Deal,” she agreed, before closing the door behind her and heading over to Colt’s place. Tommy watched her go inside, waiting until the front door was shut before he drove home. The place on his thigh where her hand had been felt cold; his bottom lip where she had gently bit him burned hot. He thought about what she’d said down by the stream, the anger he’d felt, the fear.

Tommy had spent a long time believing that the choices he had made, the choices that had been made for him, had pushed him towards a single irrevocable fate. Desperate to drown the demons that haunted him, he had become lost at sea, doomed to drift alone with nothing but salt water and the dark sky to comfort him. But then Harley had clapped her hands and just like that, the light had come on. Maybe, despite everything, Harley had been right: she hadn’t lost the fight - and, as it turned out, neither had he.

***

The sound of knocking on his door startled Tommy from his hazy dreams with a jolt. He sat up, glancing around the room without realising he was doing so, before frowning at the direction of the banging. He was forming the words in his throat to tell the person to _fuck off_ when he noticed the relentless knocking had some sort of light hearted tune to it.

“ _Tommyyyyyy!”_ Harley sung from behind the door, sound far too cheery considering the time. Still, Tommy couldn’t help but smile to himself as he got of bed, trying to press down his mess of hair with one hand, adjusting his loose tracksuit bottoms with the other as he made his way to the front door. When he opened it, Harley was stood there, grinning from ear to ear with a tub of paint in each hand and a pack of paint brushes sticking out of her front pocket. She was dressed in a crop top with dark dungarees, and looked absolutely ridiculous, and Tommy was so fiercely grateful she was in his life.

“Let’s get paintin’!” she drawled in an atrocious mock southern accent, and Tommy rolled his eyes as he stepped aside to let her through. She giggled to herself and put down the paint, turning to survey the apartment with critical eyes and hands on her hips. Tommy meanwhile eyed the paint colours, wondering how she knew what to pick up.

“Since you didn’t seem sure how long you’re gonna stay here for, I picked up neutral colours in case you decide to sell or whatever,” Harley said without looking at him as if reading his thoughts. “I got _caramel sand_ for the living area and _summer ivory_ for the rest of the walls. I thought you might wanna pick an actual colour for your bedroom, but that’s up to you. Right, come on then, get dressed!” she commanded, clapping her hands together.

“An’ here I thought I’d left the Corp,” Tommy muttered then winced as Harley smacked him on the arm, apparently having heard him. He shot her a sheepish grin and she pointed towards his bedroom with a scowl, leaving no room for protest as he gave in and went to get changed. When he came back out a couple minutes later, Harley was carrying a huge box of his shit through the tiny hallway, teetering a little as she navigated the boots he had left sprawled by the radiator.

“Harley, put that - _Harley!_ Put that down, would ya?” he called, rushing forward to try and pluck it from her arms when she wheeled around, moving away from him with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I’ve got it!” she sung over her shoulder as she dropped the box onto the kitchen counter. “You need to wake up and smell the twenty first century coffee, my friend. Girls can lift things now,” she quipped as he went to scold her for lifting the heavy stuff. Tommy just shook his head, knowing that arguing would just be counterproductive, and instead just cast her another appraising look as she adjusted her messy ponytail: somehow she’d already managed to get dirt on her nose and she had a flush across her cheeks from her struggle with the box, and the whole thing was just so perfect that Tommy had to take a moment to catch his breath. Oblivious, Harley turned the radio as loud as she dared to some country station, then began to set up shop in the middle of the lounge on top of the old sheets Tommy had found in his Pop’s place.

Together they taped up the edges, organised the brushes and picked out the wall to be targeted first. Just as the sun began to shine bright and crisp through the windows, they started to paint with lazy strokes. Their conversation was light and airy - at least, it was until Harley decided that light and airy conversation was boring, and that it was much more amusing to flick paint at Tommy’s head. The way that he froze, turning slowly to give her a stone cold glare was enough to send her into a fit of laughter, which was cut off abruptly when Tommy, with his lightning fast reflexes, ran his paint brush across her cheek, leaving a crisp line of _summer ivory_ in its wake.

Suddenly it was game on, and they pair of them began to dart around the apartment, chasing each other with paint and laughter. Tommy knew they were acting like fools but he also knew that he hadn’t had this much fun in so long that he could barely recall it. Chasing Harley around as she laughed so hard that she could barely breath brought him a sense of exhilaration - something that normally only happened during a fight, and this was so much better than sweat and blood and fists.

“Aren’t you meant to be letting me win?” Harley flung over her shoulder as she navigated the living room, and Tommy answered by leaping forward to sweep her up into his arms. She was giggling, speckled head to toe in paint, and so staggeringly beautiful that Tommy felt breathless. Harley noticed his expression and went to ask him what was wrong when he was kissing her, hard and hungry.

She was startled only for a heartbeat before her body took over, and she threw her arms around his neck, fingers twisting into his messy hair, digging into his shoulders. When he nipped at her lower lip, she moaned deep in her throat, a sound that surprised her but only seemed to spur Tommy on as he moved towards the breakfast counter, sat her down onto it only to reposition her legs so that he was stood in between them. Enjoying the way he was taking control, seemingly already naturally attuned to her body, Harley brought her legs up around his waist so they were flush together, and kissed him back with all the passion he stirred up in her. His tongue was hot in her mouth, her breasts heaving against his chest, and she felt dizzy, drunk on the man in her arms.

Pulling away for a second, Tommy looked down at her, lips swollen, hair a mess, and slid his hands along her thighs to lift her up from the counter.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, and she could only moan in reply. When he started to kiss her neck, his heavy lips sucking at the sensitive skin of her pulse point, she felt like she was going to combust, lust and heat and anticipation all roiling around within her like a starved animal.  

“God, Tommy,” she groaned, clinging to him so tight that she could feel him hard and thick at her crotch, pressing against her in a way that made her head spin, and she was overcome by the desire for him to take her right there on the counter, and she knew he wanted it to from the way he held her, moaned her name like it was a curse and a prayer, all she needed to do was -

And there it was, that annoyingly sensible part of her mind that knew this was too soon, too fast. She’d been here before and no matter how good - _how damn good -_ it felt, it always ended badly and she liked Tommy too much to risk losing him over a moment of lust.

“Tommy,” she murmured, unwinding her legs from his waist, but he didn’t move, continuing to kiss and nip at her neck and jawline and for a second she forgot why she was trying to put a stop to this. Sighing, she tried again, and this time pushed on his shoulders a little. This got his attention and he quickly pulled away, his expression anxious as he surveyed her. The seriousness of his gaze compared to the complete dishevelment of them both made Harley smile.

“You okay?” he asked, unsure, and she nodded, trying to seem reassuring because she couldn’t quite find the words to explain what was going through her head. Whatever he saw her in her eyes appeared enough to settle him though because he relaxed, and returned her smile. After rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake away the moment, he held out a hand and lead her back to the living room.

“Nearly done,” he said lightly, and together they continued to paint the room as the sun passed through the sky.

Once they had finished painting, they rearranged some of the furniture and finished unpacking Tommy’s belongings - what little he had, anyway. By the time evening fell, the place was done; if not fantastic, _his._ It had been a long time since Tommy’d had space to himself without sharing it with someone - his brother, his mum, his unit, Manny, Pop. After years of being alone, he really was finally by himself. The thought might have depressed him but then Harley was there, handing him a bottle of beer as the last rays of sunlight caught her wild eyes, lighting them up.

“Let me take ya out t’night,” he said as he took the beer. “I owe you that date.”  Harley grinned and tucked her hair behind her ears, looking a little nervous but pleased.

“Sure, yeah. That sounds perfect. It can be a celebratory dinner.”

“What we celebratin’?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“That you’re still fighting,” she replied, smiling, and Tommy wondered whether winning a million dollars would have felt anywhere near as good as this moment. He didn’t know how to respond, so he gently tilted her face up and kissed her softly. It was a tender thing, and he felt broken and remade in the same moment. Languid, they pulled apart and the air was lighter, somehow.

Feeling equally undeserving and selfish, they both knew they should turn away but were unable to do so. They wanted to protect themselves but they wanted each other more, and there was something exciting in that defiance.

Harley left soon after to get ready for their date, hopping into Colt’s shower as soon as she could, thanking her lucky stars that her host was still not back from work. The feel of the hot water thundering against her shoulders, washing away the paint but never the imprint of Tommy’s hands, soothed her into a lull that had her drifting slowly around the guest room as she picked out her outfit, feeling dangerously content. In the end she settled for a deep red dress with a floaty hem that settled at her knees, plus some casual black ankle boots and a choker necklace. Not really having much in the way of makeup, she did the best she could with cheap mascara and lipstick, then pulled her hair back into a quick fishtail braid just in time for the doorbell to go.

“He’s here,” she hummed to herself, feeling nervous despite herself. Taking her time to grab her coat and bag so she didn’t appear flustered, Harley opened the door to see Tommy leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans, his long-sleeved midnight blue shirt only slightly rumpled. His head was tilted to the side as if he was deep in thought, and his hair was ruffled as if he had just been running his hands through it, and she had to take a moment just to survey him, enjoying the sight.

“Hey,” she murmured to catch his attention, and his gaze snapped to her like a crack of lightning and it was as bright as one too.

“Hey,” he replied, husky and low, and Harley nearly damned swooned right there in the hallway like a teenager. _Worth it,_ she thought to herself. “You look beautiful,” he added, moving to stand before her with his hand held out for her to take. She smiled - had she stopped at all today? - and took his hand, letting him lead her down to his car.

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” she replied belatedly as he held open the door. He raised an eyebrow at her delay before quirking a boyish grin, a lock of hair flopping in front of his eyes, reminding Harley of a puppy. _Dear God,_ she thought, _I am so screwed._

They didn’t talk much in the car, both of them too nervous and excited to appear cool, but it didn’t take long to get to the restaurant and Tommy kept his hand on her thigh the whole ride, enough to distract Harley from any otherwise awkward silence. When they arrived, Tommy came round to open her door and help her out, earning a pleased smile that had him sending her smirk that was full of promise, enough to make heat bloom in the pit of her belly.

They were greeted by the maitre d’ who quickly escorted them to their table which was seated by the window. The ceiling was vaulted but the room still felt cosy and warm, tea lights spotted here and there, and a single white rose stood in a small vase between them. Outside, Harley could see the city lights reflected in the streets damp with summer rain, the moon watercolour in the ink-blotted sky, and everything combined made her feel as if she had fallen away from her everyday life into a sidewalk chalk painting, and she was so very glad.

“This place is gorgeous,” she exclaimed, unable to hold it in, and Tommy grinned, pleased - this whole romance thing wasn’t exactly his forte but he seemed to have pulled it off so far. He continued to watch her as she skimmed the menu, saw the way her nose scrunched up in contemplation, her teeth snagging her bottom lip. The candlelight made her hair seem red, her eyes burning green, almost preternatural, wisps of her hair curled around her jawline and he couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck he had done to earn this moment.

Jesus Christ, he was on a _date._ It was almost laughable, but here he was. Sat in a fancy shirt with a beautiful woman in some romantic as hell restaurant, and he was absolutely fuckin’ _terrified._ He could count on one hand how many times he had cared this much, had tried this hard, and each one of them had left. Whether by choice or by death, he had been the last one left standing and the concept of putting it all on the line again (again, again, again) froze him to the core.

“Good evening! Would you like to hear the specials?” Tommy startled as the waiter appeared at his elbow and he had to clench down on the menu in his hands tight to stop himself from flinching. Harley, unaware, nodded at the young man, smiling sweetly when he tripped over his words, the tips of his ears red, and Tommy scowled, wishing just a little bit she wasn’t so nice all the time. When Harley looked back at him once she had finished ordering her drink - a glass of rose, he noted for future reference - he forced his expression to relax before ordering a beer.

“God, I am starving,” she confessed as the waiter left them, and she went back to studying the menu as she curled a loose strand of hair around her finger. Normally Tommy hated when people fidgeted because it put him on edge, but in Harley he found it endearing. _Jesus,_ he thought. _I am so fucked._

“Order whatever,” he said with a shrug and it was Harley’s time to smirk.

“Sure okay, I’m thinking… yes, how about the lobster… with a bottle of champagne… ooh, is that oysters?” she said greedily, making a show of flapping the menu around and Tommy laughed, relaxing a little in his seat. In the end, Harley picked a chicken dish while Tommy went for the steak - what, he was craving protein - and just as Tommy started to worry about what they would talk about, Harley led them into easy conversation that had time fading away.

Once or twice, Tommy said something that made Harley throw her head back in laughter, revealing the gentle curve of her neck that Tommy craved to press his lips against, imagined her arch up into him, that low moan he’d heard earlier still echoing in the back of his mind. Just thinking about it made him shift in his seat, so when it was time for them to go, Tommy threw down some notes and helped Harley into her coat as fast as he dared. From her quiet chuckle, his efforts weren’t going unnoticed.

The waiter bid them farewell as they left, his eyes caught on the sway of Harley’s hips as they walked by and Tommy speared him with a vicious glare that had the boy stumbling away, and Harley sniggering into his shoulder.

“Oh, stop,” she teased, earning a dry look that only had her laughing louder. The sound echoed through the still night and the light of the moon was bright in her wake as she headed towards his car. When he went to open her door, she turned into him, her hands on his chest, and peered up at him with those eyes that drove him fucking crazy. Her lips were slightly parted, her pupils wide, and his skin burned where she was touching him.

“Thank you for a great night,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips, and she had barely gotten the words out before he had pulled her into a deep kiss that she returned with an eagerness he felt all the way down to his groin. Her hands were in his hair, her tongue was in his mouth, and his hips were pressing against hers without inhibition and -

“Get a room!” Harley jumped back just as Tommy whirled to snarl _fuck off_ at the group of guys who were walking past, making them slink away, and when he turned back Harley was almost bent over double laughing. He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile, even if he was annoyed they’d been interrupted.

“Take me home,” she commanded with a wink when she had straightened up and Tommy more than happy to obey her, helping her climb into the seat before he was darting around to drive them back to his new apartment. The air inside the car was so thick that it was hard to breathe - until Harley decided that they were being far too serious. She leaned over to switch on the radio, and was delighted at the song that was playing.

“ _Whoa-ohhhh, livin’ on a prayer! Take my haaaand, we’ll make it, I swear! Whoa-oh, livin’ on a praaaayer!”_ she sang, dancing in her seat like a fool, refusing to look at Tommy until she could feel him laughing beside her, fingers tapping almost triumphantly against the steering wheel in time to the beat.

“You’re crazy,” he decided, but she just shrugged, enjoying herself as she launched into the next song _(“I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on youuuuu”)._ Still amused, Tommy didn’t interrupt her singing as they approached the road he should turn into to drop Harley off; he slowed down but didn’t turn and he half-watched Harley out of the corner of his eye to observe her reaction as he drove past the road completely. Her gaze flickered to him but she didn’t show any indication of protest so he relaxed and continued on back to his apartment.

Harley only quietened as he pulled in the parking lot, and they were both in silence as he turned off the engine. Neither of them made a move to get out, and Harley stared out at the moon, her expression hard to read. When the moment got too long, he rested her hand on her thigh to catch her attention, then slowly climbed out of the car, pleased that she followed. Together they walked the stairs up to his place, sharing small, knowing smiles as they did so. Tommy kept waiting for it to become awkward, but it never did.

“Nice place,” Harley commented as he let them in, making a show of appreciating the decor. Tommy rolled his eyes, throwing his coat over the back of the couch.

“I had help from a woman I met,” he admitted, playing along.

“Oh yeah? What was she like?” Harley asked with guile, walking towards him slowly, deliberately.

“Beautiful,” he replied, emphatic. “Smart, honest, funny… sexy as hell.” His voice was low and Harley had the look of lust in her eye, head tilted down, eyes peering up at him as she came to a stop before him. Her hands splayed across his chest, moving down, feeling the contours of his collarbone, his pecs, his stomach, his hips. Heat was radiating from her, from him, as he bent his head to capture her in a kiss that began soft but quickly lost any tenderness as she arched into him, his hands slipped down her ass, her thighs, to lift her lightly into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, a perfect continuation from earlier that afternoon.

“Tommy,” she murmured in his ear, breathing heavily, “fuck, _Tommy.”_

That was all the encouragement he needed; he quickly strode to the bedroom, refusing to put Harley down as he kicked open the door and laid her down on the bed. Her head fell back, eyes closed, and he took it has an invitation to press hot kisses down her throat, teeth nipping, tongue wet as he tasted her skin, the feel of her pulse hammering beneath his lips. He brushed aside her wild, dark tresses and began to kiss down from her throat to her breasts, pushing down the top of her dress to reveal her bra; he could see the outline of her nipples, and he mouthed against the fabric that covered them, causing Harley to let out a deep moan.

Tommy grinned wickedly at the sound he was eliciting from her, and sat back to just take a moment and watch her, revel in the moment: her dress, the perfect shade against the paleness of her skin, had ridden up around her thighs, allowing him a delicious view of her panties, and the arousal there; she shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip as she opened her eyes to stare at him impatiently.

“Tommy,” she whined and he laughed, eyes so dark they were almost black, and moved them both foward until she was lying flat on the bed, his body a heavy but safe weight over her. He kissed her again slowly, once, twice,  until she was almost shivering with anticipation.

“What d’ya want, baby?” he asked, his voice more of a rumble against her ear than sound, and Harley could barely think straight as she spread her legs a subtle inch, her heart beating so hard she thought it would burst through her chest.

“You,” she whispered. “My God, Tommy - _you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 5 January 2017. The poem in this chapter is The Mermaid by William Butler Yeats.


	10. begging for more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: this chapter contains an explicit sex scene, please skip to the next chapter if this makes you uncomfortable.

sometimes i just survive

sometimes i stand on the rooftop of my existence

arms stretched out

begging for more

 **–** **10 –**

* * *

Tommy Conlon was a dangerous man, and Harley knew he could destroy her. Saltwater and ash, he was an oblivion she was happy to fall into, again and again. She was not made for sainthood, sin like dirt under her fingernails, damnation a dress too tight, but my god, he tasted like salvation. Each kiss he laid against her flesh burned like hellfire, fingers leaving bruises in their wake as he held her, held her like she was his, and my god, she was, she was,  _she was._

Control was something Harley wore like war paint; each move calculated, each part of her pristine. She found pride in knowing that people only knew what she wanted them to know, saw what she wanted them to see. It was something she had been confident to utilise in this wicked dance she had found herself engaged in - and, well. Where the fuck was that control now? She had given it up, given every penny of it away the moment that Tommy had touched her and the most painful part of it was that she didn't care at all. Let him have it, let him have all of it, if only he would have her, too. Have her and have her, and have her again until the world came crashing down, sulphur and acid rain into the pit of her used soul.

Oh, but she wasn't alone here. Her hands held Tommy's head, fingers knotted in his hair as he sucked her nipple, bra and dress lying discarded on the floor, his teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp his name, a prayer, a magnificat, and she revelled in the sensation of being so equally vulnerable and safe in the same moment - she knew that was him, that was everything Tommy was, and made her be.

"Tommy, please," she begged, and he brought his head up to snare her mouth, lips swollen from his attentions, and she moved her hands down to his bare back, drawing her nails hard across the inked skin. Tommy hissed into her mouth and kissed her harder, shifting so that his erection pressed against her hip. The friction made him dizzy and Harley huffed a strained laugh and dripped a hand past his waistband to tease him, touch featherlight against his underwear.

It was Tommy's turn to moan, a short, unexpected sound at the back of his throat and Harley knew that he was as lost as she was, consuming and consumed. She laughed again, hanging on the edges of delirium, and took him in her hand, enjoying the way he bucked, muscles going taught as he held himself still above her, eyes closed. Watching his face, she gently ran her thumb over the tip before sliding her hand up his thickness to the base and back down again. Unable to hold himself aloft any longer, he buried his face into her shoulder and groaned, his teeth nipping against her skin as she laughed a little, withdrawing her hand.

"Cheater," he grumbled in her ear before moving down, occasionally dropping a heavy kiss against her sternum, her breast, her stomach, the hem of her panties, the last piece of clothing she had on. Leaving them on for the moment, he pressed his tongue against the patch of dampness, tasting the slight saltiness of her arousal and prompting a sharp intake of breath.

Pleased he was back in control for the time being, Tommy began to gently bite at the inside of her thigh, making Harley shift and fidget, her hands laid flat against the bedsheets. He took his time, focused on each thigh for a long while before he began to slowly peel off her underwear. Harley made a low whining noise at his slowness and he shot her a dark smirk before running his nose across the small tangle of dark hair, tongue darting out to taste her folds, painfully languid.

"You're so wet," he teased, glancing up at her.

"Fuck, Tommy,  _please!"_ she exclaimed, placing one hand on his head to guide him back down, and Tommy laughed at her eagerness.

"Okay, baby," he conceded and buried his tongue deep into her cunt. Harley cried out, throwing her head back onto his pillow as he sucked on her clit, eating her like a ripe peach. It didn't take long for the intimacy, the pleasure to take her, and when she told him in chopped gasps that she was coming, he didn't stop. He might have said something but she couldn't hear him, could only feel the vibrations in his throat as she hit a crescendo that took like her a wave, rearing up and crashing down. As she lay there, spent, Tommy lift his head, licking his lips like he had just sampled his favourite wine, his eyes as dark as the sky outside, and when he kissed her, she tasted herself.

He pulled back, and Harley could only watch, rendered mute, as he shed his underwear, grabbing a condom from his nightstand and put it on, throwing the packet over his shoulder with a flourish that had her giggling. Though the last throws of her orgasm were still there, leaving her feeling tingly and malleable, she was desperate for this to happen. When Tommy positioned himself between her legs, his rough hands holding her hips steady and slightly aloft, Harley gripped the bedsheets, already feeling breathless.

"You ready, babe?" Tommy asked, a bead of sweat running down his forehead from the sheer effort of staying still, waiting for Harley to give her go ahead. Sensing this, Harley smiled -  _my god, she will raze me to ground_ \- and nodded.

"Please," she whispered, and it was enough. Tommy pressed into her slickness, gauged her reaction, then pushed in as far as he could go. Harley arched up with a cry and Tommy closed his eyes at the blazing heat that enveloped him, held him tight. Try as he might, he couldn't stop himself and he started to thrust, deep and hard; Harley spread her legs wide and rocked her hips to match his pace, moaning each time they met, pulsing and burning and hot.

Wanting to taste her again, Tommy bent over, adjusting his hold on her hips, one arm moving to brace over her head as they rocked together, the bed banging loud against the wall with each thrust. Harley pulled his hair as Tommy bit her neck, and everything around them, between them, inside them transcended into electricity that crackled and warped, the whole universe focused inside one crappy apartment bedroom.

Together they climbed and Tommy whispered hot, wet commands in her ear,  _come for me, come for me baby,_ and she did, he did, collapsing into themselves over and over until they could do but nothing but lie there, panting and slick with sweat. Neither of them spoke for a while, Tommy lying with his face pressed into Harley's neck, one arm thrown over her waist. The echoes of their cries and moans had faded, leaving a heavy silence in which echoed the drum of their heartbeats; he felt as if he had been drowning at sea, only to wash up at her feet.

He thought maybe he should say something but couldn't think of the right thing to break the silence so instead he shifted to the side of her, giving her space - except Harley, eyes closed, grumbled a little and tried to tug him back to her. He shushed her and gently pulled her over to him so that she was draped across his chest. She murmured something unintelligible and tucked her face turned into the crook of his shoulder before relaxing completely, already asleep. Quite unable to help himself, Tommy smiled up at the ceiling, holding her tight.

"You're safe," he promised in a whisper. He could hear birds beginning to chirp outside his window, the sky already paling. Then, with Harley dreaming and the world waking, Tommy slept.

* * *

It was the sunshine, not a nightmare, that woke Tommy. He stirred and tried to use his arm to block the light only to find it pinned; disorientated, he blinked through gritty eyes to peer down at the warm weight tucked against him. It was then that the events of the night before came rushing back and all he could do was stare.

The sunlight did nothing to disturb Harley; no, she basked in it. Cast aflame in gold, her hair was a wild crown about the face she had turned into the light, unafraid. During the night she had thrown one arm above her head, crooked a leg at the knee, her body twisted enough that the sheets had slipped down to rest on her hips. Tommy's fingers twitched as he imagined tracing the golden lines that stitched across her bare breasts and rib cage which gently rose and fell under his gaze. He wondered if he would taste the sunlight on her skin: he wondered whether it would burn.

It was as if the world had been condensed down into the space inside his bedroom, these four walls that were lit ablaze with the haze of the morning. Tommy felt caught in this inbetween state, neither asleep nor truly awake and he would think that he was dreaming but he had never dreamed like this before. There was the touch of serenity about her, the sanctity of art and he was suddenly gripped with the fear that should he touch her, his fingers would stain her flesh.

His mother had raised him on tales of heroes who would fight the good fight, who would stand when all else would falter, and as a boy he would run around the yard, wielding sticks like swords, playing the hero. There was a moral to every story, a reminder to keep the faith, to carry on even when all seemed lost.

A handful of deaths later and he knew better: there was no such thing as a good fight. In real life, fights always ended the same way: blood always got spilled.

Tommy shook his head, ran his free hand across his eyes. He knew that was true, he knew it… except for those moments. Those moments in which he would read her his story and Harley would read back the same words but this time it would have one of those morals, like she was plucking a dying flower from his hand and placing it in water to heal.

Watching her now, so still as she slept, Tommy thought of his mother. Every Sunday his Ma would enter Church and even on the greyest of days, she would find the one ray of sunlight in the whole place and in it she would pray, her shaking hands clasped around her rosary so tight her fingers would go white.  _Please God,_ she would whisper. Tommy never asked her what she was praying for, and when she stopped praying, he stopped too. In the wake of her absence, he had never sought out the sun.

It seemed to have found him all the same.

Before he could lose himself further in the liminal space of his thoughts, Harley stirred then, sunlight dappled in the hollow of her collarbone as she stretched out on his sheets. Tommy squinted, almost repelled by the brightness of her. He knew her tragedy and it was unsettling to know that their stories could be the same except she was the rosary, and he was the bloodied fist that clenched it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 26 April 2017. This quote in this chapter is from the book Getting the Girl by Markus Zusak.


	11. names like tombstones

names like pain cries

names like tombstones

names forgotten and reinvented

names forbidden or overused

**\- 11 -**

* * *

The mirror shattered beneath his fist, shards of glass chiming to the bathroom floor like rain. Tommy stared at the place where his reflection used to be, tasting sand.

The shock of his knees hitting the ground made his head spin and he hissed in a breath between clenched teeth. The world swayed around him and he fell forward until his forehead was pressed against the cold tile, the bite of broken glass bringing no relief from the hot fog of his dreams.

"Please," he whimpered, eyes screwed shut. There was blood in his mouth, grit in his eyes, quicksand sucking at his heels, and he felt like he was falling into an abyss with no one but the dead to hear him scream.

Tommy wished that he could call out and hear Harley calling back. He imagined how she would run through to him, her long fingers stroking through his hair as she would pull him back from the crumbling edge. The brightness of her would bleach him clean, the sea salt of her touch would purge the rot from his wounds, anchoring him to her like the ocean floor. But she wasn't here. Harley had left to visit her mother, leaving the apartment feeling hollow.

_It should have been you._

"Go away," Tommy groaned, his hands trembling. Something was scratching in the dark corners of the room, eyes watching him from the shadows. The air was filled with the stench of charred flesh.

_It should have been you._

The festered faces of the dead were before him, eyes sunken, watching. The wind howled, carrying voices from long ago, and then there was a great crack. Tommy threw himself down onto the sand as the earth began to open up, collapsing under the weight of war never won. He could hear Manny calling his name and Tommy tried to reach him, grabbing at his hand but his grip was slack with blood and he could only watch as his best friend was swallowed by the gaping maw of the desert. He tried to dig, clawing at the sand with his bare hands but somehow it had hardened to cool tile.

His vision swam, the heat of the sun became cold and the shadows retreated. "Please help me," he whispered but they were gone now; there was no one left to listen. The dream done, Tommy drifted off into an uneasy sleep that was closer to death than he deserved.

* * *

It was the cold, not the sunlight, that woke Tommy the next morning. It took him a while to orientate himself, slumped as he was against the shower door. His hands ached and he stared down at them, the bruises, the bloody fingernails, and though he knew how he got them, he felt detached from the memory. Ignoring it, he got to his feet and stumbled into the shower, letting the cold sweat and old blood disappear down the drain.

The morning was passed by following his usual routine - a dance Tommy had learnt the steps to a long time ago. He gulped down a black coffee shot with whiskey without tasting it before dressing in his gym gear. He couldn't stomach the idea of having to face anybody so instead he jogged around the block, over and over, as many times as it took before he lost count and the cold burn of exercise blocked out everything else.

It was late afternoon when he got home, the heat in the day fading fast with the oncoming autumn. Tommy headed to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, when he saw the broken glass. It was uncomfortable recalling the night before, like prodding a wound, and so he switched off. Reverting to autopilot, he cleared away the mess, the sound of the glass hitting the bottom of the trashcan sounding very far away.

Looking back on it, Tommy probably got his habit of reverting to cleaning when stressed from his Ma. Whenever she and Pop had had a bad fight, the house would always stink of bleach the next day; when she would hug him goodnight, he would be able to smell it on her like a perfume. Now, when he poured it out onto the floor in great gulps, he got flashes of her murmuring to the ceiling, fixing her apron, smiling that plastic smile she had. When the bleach stung the cuts on his hands, his broken fingernails, he imagined her holding him tight; he scrubbed harder.

It was long into the night when he finished, every surface and floor scoured bitterly clean - but nothing had changed. He was just as dirty as he had been before. Some stains never come out.

He didn't sleep that night. Like a coward, Tommy couldn't face the long stretch of memory that taunted him when he closed his eyes and he was scared of what demons lay waiting in the shadows. Instead he finished unpacking his things, took his time finding each thing a place of its own. Everyone always assumed his neatness had been trained into him by the Marines, but he'd always been careful about where to put things. If a single toy had been found out of place by Pop, he'd never see it again.

When dawn finally came, Tommy stumbled over to the couch and threw himself down, panting like he'd just lost a fight. The apartment was so quiet. The curtains were drawn but a thin spear of morning light broke through and Tommy was mesmerised by the way the dust motes danced in it like fireflies. Beauty could be found anywhere, he thought.

Just then, his phone rang. Tommy flinched, hesitating for second before he recognised the ring tone. Lurching upwards, he grabbed at the phone like it was a rope thrown to a drowning sailor.

"Hello?" he gasped out.

 _"Honey, you okay?"_  Oh, fuck. Her voice shot light through the darkness of him like stained glass and he felt like he was choking on it, drowning. Unable to speak for a moment, he had to lean back and close his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could hear Harley waiting on the other end.

"Yeah, babe, I'm alright."

 _"You sure?"_  She sounded uncertain and for a single heartbeat Tommy was ready to let it all out, to say everything he was thinking - but she wasn't ready for it. Hell, he wasn't. So, he lied.

"I said I'm fine, babe. You good?"

 _"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry I didn't call yesterday, I got caught up with mum."_  She sounded so sad, so tired, that it reaffirmed to Tommy that he couldn't be honest with her even if he wanted to: she was already dealing with so much, he couldn't add any more weight to the mantle on her shoulders.

"Harley, it's fine. Don't worry 'bout it."

" _I know, it's just… she's really bad at the moment and everything's up in the air with having somewhere to stay. Listen, I know I was planning on coming back to yours tonight but I think I need to stay with her, is that okay?"_  Tommy's heart sunk, pictured having to lie awake for another night, finding things to stop him from falling asleep.

"Yeah, yeah," he ground out against the fear he felt at the things that haunted him at night, the voices and the eyes that always watched him. He couldn't be angry at Harley, he know he couldn't, but he couldn't stop the way his voice sharpened.

 _"Er, you sure? You don't sound like it."_  Her voice matched his and his skin prickled as if he sensed thunder in the air.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's fine."

 _"Are you seriously pissed at me right now?"_  Harley snapped, tone harsh. He could hear the temper in her voice, felt his own flare to match.

"No, I ain't pissed at you. Fuck sake, Harley, stop itchin' for a fight."

 _"You know what, Tommy? Whatever. Fucking whatever."_  There was no such thing as a dramatic hang up these days thanks to touch screens but the aggression with which Harley ended the call had Tommy dumbstruck. He went back over the conversation, imagined all the things he could have said. Baby, I had a nightmare. Baby, I'm scared. Baby, I love you. But he hadn't and he was left standing in the dark, alone again.

He couldn't stand it. He'd thought having a new apartment would mean a fresh start but it was him not the house that was haunted and he'd brought his demons with him. They were with him now, creeping around corners, ghosts on the stairs. It was too much, too much, so he grabbed his bag from his room and ran to the gym, unable to slow down enough to get into the car. When he arrived at the door, he adopted a strict poker face before heading inside, shoulders stiff.

"Morning!" Colt called from the office and Tommy nodded at him before heading to the changing rooms. The gym was quiet this early in the morning so he was able to claim the biggest punching bag in the place. He wrapped his frustration and fear around his knuckles like barbed fire, turning his weakness into a weapon the way he always did. The bag swung with each impact of his fists, the creak of the chain echoing around the hall which the other patrons tried to ignore. He was an animal, a  _beast_ , raging at the bars of his cage.

Hours passed but Tommy only stopped when he heard Colt calling him from the doorway. When he turned, he saw that they were the the last ones left, dusk beginning to settle like snow on the road outside.

"Tommy, I need to talk to you about Torrent." It took a moment before Tommy got his meaning and he recalled the face of the man in question, his fists clenching at his sides in anticipation. This was it, this is what he needed: something to funnel his energy, his anger.

"Look, Tommy - I'm not gonna put you down for the fight. I'm sorry, man, but I don't think you're... ready for it, what with your shoulder an' all. You'd be a sitting duck in the ring."

It was like a kick to the gut, the cherry on top of his already fucking shitty day. At first all he could do was blink at Colt, not believing what he was hearing. He was the best fighter in this dump, more than capable - and willing - to knock that Torrent punk on his ass. The only one there every damn day, he had been working hard to prove himself, but apparently it meant sweet fuck all.

"My shoulder's fine," he growled, interrupting whatever Colt was going to say next. The manager stopped and sighed, running his hand over his bald head, visibly uncomfortable. He didn't want to argue with Tommy but he couldn't back down on this. Any opponent would immediately target Tommy's injury and if something happened to his star fighter as a consequence, it'd be his fault.

"As your friend and as your manager, I can't let you participate in this fight until we get proper medical sign off that there is no risk. Maybe next time, okay?" It was the sorta shit you said to a kid who didn't get picked at soccer practice and it made Tommy's skin crawl. He went to argue but Colt didn't want to be on the receiving end of Tommy's ire so he quickly spun on his heel and headed back to his office, closing the door firmly behind him. The magnitude of his dismissal was almost obscene.

It was a thing of pride that kept Tommy rooted to the spot for as a long as he was, seething, silent. To leave was to admit defeat but he wouldn't beg for something he knew he wasn't going to get. So, shoulders tense and fists clenched, Tommy grabbed his stuff and left.

When he got back to the apartment, the first thing he did was pour himself a whiskey. He threw it back as he stood braced against the kitchen counter, staring hard at nothing. It went down too easy so he poured himself another and another until the burn of it hitting his throat was enough to break through the haze. After his third, he wandered through to the couch, whiskey bottle in hand, and slumped against the cushions, head tilted back.

His phone buzzed, startling him from the half-sleep he had fallen into, and he pulled it from his pocket. Harley's name flashed across the screen, the notification in the corner showing him that he'd already missed a number of calls. His thumb twitched as if to answer, but instead he just waited until her name disappeared. A moment later, the voicemail icon appeared and this time he let it play.

_"Hi, Tommy, it's me. I'm sorry about earlier, for snapping at you, it was uncalled for. I'm just - look, are you okay? If something's happened, if you need to talk, I'm here. I'll always be here for you, Tommy."_

He waited until the echo of her voice died before throwing his phone out of sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 15 May 2017. The quote for this chapter is from "Crush" by Richard Silken.


	12. death is at your doorstep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING - this chapter contains deals with suicide including a short description of it. Please skip to the next chapter if you do not wish to read this.

 

death is at your doorstep

and it will steal your innocence

but it will not steal your substance

you are not alone in this

you are not alone in this

 **–**   **12 –**

* * *

It was midnight and Harley was watching her mother sleep. She was sat on the floor, her back against the wall. The hospital was quiet, eerily so, and the moon stood square and bright through the single window, slanting sharp shadows throughout the room. Time felt loose here, something other, uncanny. Everything was still as if the very world was waiting, holding its breath.

Exhaustion was a heavy chain around her neck but if Harley didn't stay up to guard her mum, she would slide out of bed and haunt the halls like a ghost. When the nurses had suggested using restraints, Harley had outright refused, not wanting to treat Lily like a criminal. This was her only other idea, and it seemed to work. So, she sat, she watched, and she thought.

She was running out of - well, everything. Time, money, options. Lily's lucidity was becoming rarer, her tolerance to the medication meaning she had to take more of the drugs that kept her floating and confused. Her thin fingers would wind around Harley's wrist like a manacle, eyes wide and searching.  _Help me,_ she would plead. Other times, she would scream and throw things across the room, cursing her doctor, her daughter for keeping her locked up against her will.

Those episodes would remind Harley of when she was a child, hiding in the closet and trying to muffle her tears as her mother went on a rampage through the house. When her father left, she thought she wouldn't feel that fear again but she'd just exchanged one type of violence for another. Seeing it again so close up after all these years was like being drenched in ice water, shaking her to the bone.

Harley knew that a rotting terror that lurked in the heart of her mother's illness. The predisposition to it had been passed from mother to child, but her father's fists had only exacerbated the inherited weakness, pressing against the splinters in her psyche until they became cracks then gaping holes that consumed everything that made her who she was. During her childhood, Lily had been a good mother, her gentleness only loosely littered with her fits of paranoia or mania, but it was different now. Now, all Harley could do was take watch, a sentinel in the night, guarding her mother's dreams. She wrapped the silence around her like a cloak, the moon her solitary lantern to guide her through the murky waters ahead.

It was in times like these that Harley felt overwhelmingly alone. She was the first person to preach the endeavour of carrying on, keep fighting the good fight. But sometimes, when she wasn't looking, the loneliness would strike like a cold weight in her chest.

It had been two weeks since her fight with Tommy, since her anger had coiled around her like a garden snake. Looking back on it now, it was obvious from Tommy's voice that something had happened; he had sounded tired, desperate, frustrated. None of that had been directed at her but the worst parts of her had reacted before the rest of her could, and rather than being supportive or understanding, she'd gotten defensive. No wonder he hadn't taken her shit - she wouldn't have.

She was normally so careful to keep her emotions under wraps, to push that unquenchable rage deep down where she couldn't touch it, but there was something about Tommy that got her back up. She knew that it wasn't anything he actively did, she  _knew_ that he would never judge her for what she was going through - but there were moments where she felt so…  _small_ compared to him. Like she was losing a race neither of them had agreed to.

Three times she'd driven past his apartment, but she'd never stopped. She was in the wrong and she was being a coward about it, the fear of complete rejection making her craven. The absence of him was a physical ache. She wished she was braver, that she had apologised, because then he'd be there and she could hide in the safety of his embrace. She missed every part of him: the way he would fold around her to keep her warm, the labyrinth of ink on his skin, the scent of him, the gravel of his voice. God - she missed him so much.

Fragility wasn't something she was used to, but she felt it now. It was as if she had been hollowed out, her skin just a sheet of ice ready to fracture. Her eyes burned and Harley pressed the heels of her hands against them, willing herself not cry, but the more she fought it the worse it became until suddenly she was sobbing. She tried in vain to smother the noise but it was no use, so when Lily shifted, Harley scrambled to her feet and staggered into the hallway.

The enormity of her hopelessness was crushing. She didn't know what to do, where to turn - she was far from home, with no one to turn to, running out of money and still had nowhere to live. She was stuck on a visiting visa with the clock counting down and a mother who couldn't travel. It was becoming more and more obvious that her plan, which had seemed weak to begin with, was falling apart. She should never have left what she knew.

Wiping her cheeks, Harley wandered down the corridor and into the visitor's lounge. She sat on a sofa that had seen better days and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Crying wasn't going to solve anything and her mum needed her to be strong.

"This is bullshit," she thought, resting her head back to stare up at the flickering light about her head. Slowly, her tears dried and she fell into an uncomfortable half-sleep.

It wasn't long after that she jerked awake, having slipped down to lie against the cushions. Her heart was pounding and her hands trembled as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Feeling the need to move, Harley lurched to her feet and fetched herself a glass of water from the kitchenette, having to grip onto the counter to steady herself as she downed it in one. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was only three in the morning but she felt like she'd been asleep for days.

She could still hear the humming from her dream but it was only now she recognised the tune: it was a lullaby her mum had sung to her as a child. In her dream it had followed her as she'd run through a field under a starless night sky, searching for something she couldn't find. As dark as pitch, she hadn't been able to see but had felt the eyes watching her, dogging her every step. Even now she still felt the cold dread of being hunted.

Putting down the glass, Harley straightened up with a sigh. It was cold in the hospital, making her shiver as she slowly headed back to her mother's room, arms wrapped around herself. There was no sound except the dull moan of the fluorescent lights and the quiet beeping of a monitor from a nearby room. When she reached the door, she took a moment to gather herself before pushing it open.

With her hair loose and long down her shoulders, lips pulled into an infinitesimal smile, Harley's first thought was that her mother had never looked so serene. The sheets were scarlet around her, rich like wine against the paleness of her skin, frosted by the fading moonlight. A shattered glass at the side of the bed caught Harley's eye and it was then that she saw that her mother's wrists were slashed.

Shock flooded Harley with a force that had her stumbling. Glass crunched like snow underfoot as she fell to her knees at her mother side. She felt like screaming but the words wouldn't come, her fingers trembling as she gripped at the bloodied sheets. The stickiness of it made her stomach roll.

Everything was blanked out, gone, except for the detached thought that there was a grace in Lily's death, somehow. The blood could have been rubies, poppies, an offering of wealth scattered around her in tribute. When she touched her mother's face, it was cold. The stillness of her was like the end of a poem, abrupt yet also complete.

It took a while for Harley to rationalise long enough to press the call alarm, and the shrill voice of the nurse felt far away. Hands were on her, moving her aside, and she watched as people crowded the body, talking over her, feeling for a pulse that wasn't there until, finally, someone draped a clean blanket over her face. They wheeled her out of the room and Harley was left alone, standing with bloody hands and the echo of a life taken.

The nurse who had found her first was the one to remember that she was still there. The woman gently guided her to the waiting room and pressed a cup of coffee into her crimson hands, then rubbed her shoulder. She had the good sense not to say anything as Harley stared out in front of her. She was filled with the urge to gouge her own eyes out, to scream and scream and scream until the building came crashing down, to strike out, but she was frozen in place. She was consumed with the image of her mother's moonlit corpse lying like a mermaid about to submerge herself under the ocean foam. This wasn't something she'd ever anticipated, though she realised now what a stupid mistake that was. She'd been so focused on what she was going to do with her mother's life that she had never taken the time to consider what her mother would do with it.

"Honey," the woman said eventually, and Harley knew what she was going to say already. She had to leave, right? There was nothing to keep her here anymore. Laughter bubbled up in her throat like vomit and she struggled to swallow it down. "Do you have somewhere to go?" It was only then that she realised the hospital had come to mean 'home' and even that was gone now.

There was only one other place she could think of but she didn't know whether that was open to her. Either way, she had no choice so she nodded and followed the nurse to the front desk. A man she didn't recognise spoke to her about the procedure, what would happen next, but Harley missed half the words, feeling like she was falling through smoke, out of sync with the world around her. She didn't realise he'd stopped speaking until both the nurse and the man exchanged a look before staring back at her, and she got the hint. Leave. Lily had checked herself out and dead people don't have visitation rights.

Her bag and coat was bundled into her arms and with one final pat on the shoulder, she was sent out the door. The moon was beginning to sink but the sky was still dark as pitch, unfeeling. Not knowing what else to do, Harley began the long walk from the hospital to Tommy's place. The roads were empty, only the flickering streetlamps there to guide her way. At one point she thought she should call him but wouldn't know what to say so she just kept walking, eyes down. Each step felt like a blade was being slid between her ribs.

When she got to his front door, she hesitated for a moment before making herself knock and it was then she that saw that her hands were stained with blood. It had dried and cracked like rust, and she was still staring at them when the door opened. Sluggishly, she raised her head to meet Tommy's gaze, his expression bewildered as he took her in, blood and all.

"Baby?" he murmured, the word heavy with concern and suddenly she was crying, arms wrapping around her middle. Tommy caught her when she started to buckle, his skin warm as he held her tight, half carrying her back into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him.

He sat her down on the couch and took her face in his hands but she couldn't stop her crying, the sobs tearing from her throat like great wounds, ripping her apart. There was a wildness in Tommy as he said her name, over and over like a prayer, and Jesus, he was fucking terrified. He'd thought he'd seen her fall apart but this was something else, something ungodly, unholy, almost grotesque in the way that she was coming undone.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked. He used his thumb to wipe her tears and when Harley opened her eyes to look up at him, they were a perfect seagreen and he felt himself drowning in their depths - and then he knew; he knew this basest grief.

"I… She…" She shuddered and stared down at her hands, seeing the blame cupped on her palms like oil. Her shoulders bent inwards like trees bowing in the wind and Tommy encased her as tight as he dared. There was gasoline in the air and it would only take one spark of the fire that was burning its way through her like a plague, and everything he had come to love would go up in flames.

He pulled Harley into his lap, tucking her head beneath his chin and made the same shushing sounds he'd made to all those he'd been afraid to lose. She clutched to him so desperately her nails dug into his skin but he just held her tighter, rocking gently as her cries lasted well into the night. They were even now, Tommy thought, in this competition of loss neither of them had wanted. They were even.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 27 May 2017. The quote is from the song "Timshel" by Mumford and Sons.


	13. things beyond the ocean

tell me about the tiny destruction

about how your heart aches for things beyond the ocean

about how you've always wanted out

but you've since lowered your goals to just surviving

about how the walls of your home are teeth

 **–**   **13 –**

* * *

There was no sympathy to be found in the weather that day. It was bright and sunny, the birds singing through the open window in which came a cool breeze. The radio in the kitchen played an upbeat song and there were people laughing on the street below, taking advantage of the last dregs of summer. It could have been a happy day, Tommy thought, if it wasn't for Harley crying in the bedroom.

He was stood outside the door, forehead pressed against the doorframe as he wondered if life really was this cruel. This was a path he'd walked long ago and to see Harley walk it now, he felt so helpless. It was a feeling he'd have thought he would have resigned himself to by now but it still burned to watch suffering and be unable to do relieve it.

When he'd heard the knocking on his door, he had assumed it was either some dumb kids fuckin' about or his Pop, probably drunk. If he'd been in bed he would have ignored it but sleep didn't come easy anymore so he'd been sipping whisky in the kitchen. Fully prepared to have to scare whoever it was at the door off, he'd opened it with aggression, the words already forming when he saw Harley. There was the briefest flash of light before he had realised she was staring at her hands - hands that were stained with dried blood.

After, she had said sorry so many times into his neck and mumbled something about leaving and he'd tightened his hold on her from instinct. The idea of her going back to Colt's place made him irrationally angry considering the guy was his manager, but he wouldn't understand. So he'd insisted that she stay at his apartment, luckily she hadn't protested much.

Now, a few days had passed and Harley's grief was a weight she didn't know how to carry. The wound was still so raw that it was sucking the life from her, leaving her gaunt. He knew that she was trying hard to keep it together but when she wasn't crying she would stare blankly at the wall, and the sight of it, when she had been so vibrant and full of colour, made Tommy feel sick. At night he would hold her tight against him and whisper in her ear,  _I've got you baby, I've got you._

Eventually she would fall into a fitful sleep, waking occasionally to turn in his arms, and Tommy would lie awake, sifting through memories that had been thrown up like a fistful of sand. No matter how hard he tried to dislodge them, they replayed over and over again. He saw his Ma, grey and skeletal, mouth downturned, hands clawed around an old crucifix, bald head covered in a sour scarf that had slipped down over one unseeing eye. Unlike the nightmares of his unit which flickered and flared as he relived them, his memories of his Ma were static, flat like an old television tuned into an empty channel. Somehow, that was worse.

He knew that Harley felt that she had let her mother down, had failed in her duty to protect her. He knew, because he felt the same thing when his Ma had died, which was why he had signed up to the Corp: he had needed to be stronger, to fight better. It was always the same, that guilt, and it never really faded. You just learnt how to live with the taste of it at the back of your throat. He hated that Harley had to live with that now but nothing would take it away.

There was a part of him, a small part he refused to voice, that was angry with Harley's mum. God knows he couldn't fault someone for feeling suicidal, especially not Lily - she'd been barely living a life, from what he'd been told - but he was pissed that she'd done this to Harley, that she'd left her daughter in that way. Harley's heart was still so soft, and she'd take the action so very personally.

There had been a number of phone calls over the last few days: the hospital, the morgue, the hospital again. Harley had suffered through them with a coldness that felt familiar, answering questions delivered with the tact of a school exam. Funeral arrangements, identification checks, bill payments.

"Can't believe how much it costs you to kill yourself these days," she'd murmured after the last one, sliding a credit card back into her purse, and Tommy had flinched. It all felt so wrong. It had taken a week to create the world and only one night to destroy it. But maybe, if they were lucky, they might be able to scavenge enough pieces to stagger on.

The day before Lily's funeral, Harley invited Tommy into the shower, resting her head on his shoulder while he held them under the water. He washed her hair with calloused hands while she traced lines in the condensation on the glass door, humming a song he didn't know. When he was done, she turned to face him with dilated pupils, her hair dark against the paleness of her neck, her breast. The water clung like diamonds to her skin and Tommy fell to his knees.

He ran his tongue across her, barely touching, just enough. Harley shivered and knotted her hand in his hair, resting her head against the door when he gripped her thighs, the water hitting his back as he tasted her. The steam was thick in the small room and it was like breathing in smoke, making Harley pant as the embers were stoked within her until she came long and slow, a wave of sweet hot flame that burned away all thought for the most blissful of moments.

Tommy stood and held her until her shudders stopped then kissed her with a force that had the door creaking from their weight. For a terrifying second Harley felt like she would break beneath his fingers but then she was pushing back just as hard, scratching her nails down his back with a ruthlessness that had him hissing into her mouth.

She was feline and he was feral, the pair of them a storm that only grew with each lightning strike. When Tommy dipped his fingers between her thighs, licking each one with all the control of someone born into training, Harley watched him through half-lidded eyes. Grieving and glutton, she knew she should give but preferred in that moment only to take. It felt like she was drowning in guilt but Tommy forgave her sins so beautifully; he was her prayer in the dark nights. Sometimes she would wonder if they were creation or if they were destruction, but tonight she thought that maybe they were both.

Afterwards, Tommy didn't take her on the floor or against the wall, but that was okay. He got to see her come undone, a blistering heat that never burned but melted away the memories like winter frost. So instead, he turned off the shower and plucked her up into his arms, carrying her through to the bedroom. He placed her down and she curled under the duvet, soaking the sheets but not caring about it. Tommy closed the curtains and climbed in after her, enjoying the feel of her being so close. It didn't take as long for her to fall asleep that night, and Tommy took that as a good sign.

The funeral was less of a ceremony than a quiet pause before the body was prepared for the cremation. Tommy had thought that she would opt for a burial, but Harley had shaken her head at the assumption. Lily had always been claustrophobic, she'd told him, and would hate the idea of lying in a box underground for ever. Being cremated would allow her to be free from the confines of the prison she'd been forced to endure for the last decade.

It was just the two them who attended. Colt had been mentioned but the idea of having to go through the whole politesse of explaining what had happened made tears burn behind her eyes, so she'd forgone the invite. It wasn't entirely fair to the man who'd known Lily when they kids and let her stay at his place for the past few weeks, but that was an apology for another day. For now, it was all she could do to bow her head while some holy words were read over her coffin.

She could have had an open casket but Harley couldn't bear the idea of having to see her mother like that, blue and empty. She wanted to remember her full of warmth, laughing and dancing. So she had left it closed, and at the end of the ceremony she rested her hand over the wood, her chest seizing for one long painful moment before Tommy's fingers grazed her back and she found the strength to move on.

The cremation was mechanical, so process driven that there was no chance of emotion to be felt amongst the burning and the smell. When Harley was handed the urn, she was surprised at how light it was. The woman who had raised her had been reduced to ash; and from earth she had come, to earth she would go.

"That is not the sum of her parts," Tommy said to her, voice low. It sounded like a mantra and Harley knew that he had told himself the same thing when he had buried his own mother. Their similarities were cruel and she almost wanted to laugh, but the feeling faded as quick as it came. Instead, she took Tommy's hand and held it tight as they walked back to the car, the sun shining bright overhead.

The day after, Tommy left Harley asleep in their bed and headed over to his Pop's place. He still had some things to pick up and though summer still lingered, the nights would begin to get cold so he wanted to get his warmer clothes. Plus there was that blanket his Ma had knitted when he was a boy that Harley would like, he thought.

He was caring more and more about what she would like, but who could blame him? He was learning the curves of her flesh like a language, collecting the syllables from the hollow of her back, her whispers left behind in rooms like red lipstick on a champagne flute, and he would gather them in his palms to read like sheet music. The cursive of her spine read like a love letter that he couldn't translate.

Never one to wax romantic, these were the thoughts that he kept to himself, and where he revelled in silence, words hung from her like blossoms. When the curtains were closed, he would trace the cocaine lines of her collarbones ,and smile when she sighed, head rolling back; an ocean tide.

 _What are you?_  She sat down beside him and threw him a smile the way light would refract off a diamond ring. He complimented her breakfast even though it wasn't nearly half as good as his, but it was the fact that she'd had the inclination to get up and make it that mattered. She didn't say anything but just bumped him with her shoulder as she whisked away his plate.

While she was washing up, Brendan called. Resigning himself to a conversation with his brother, Tommy answered it and listened as Brendan reminded him in that kind of hopeful way he had that his birthday was right around the corner and he still wanted Tommy to come.

"You gonna bring anyone?" Brendan asked. Tommy looked at Harley who was elbow-deep in bubbles, the pale sunlight making her hair a dark gold. It was still too soon, he thought.

"No," he replied. The conversation over, he threw his phone onto the kitchen table and turned his mind to better things. When Harley asked him who it was, he said no one.

The rest of the day was spent tidying the apartment. Lily hadn't had a lot of belongings, most of them still back in London, but whatever she had left behind Harley packed away in a box and slid it to the back of the Tommy's cupboard. The only things she kept out were two photographs and a necklace with a small moon pendant that she didn't wear. She was very quiet that day but seemed a little more relaxed than she had been and when she sat at his feet that evening in front of the sofa, Tommy massaged the stress away, his strong hands almost sending her to sleep.

"Thank you," she whispered against his mouth when they took themselves to bed. She was curled up against him and her hands pressed against his chest but it wasn't lust she sought but rather the reassurance that she wasn't alone. You'll never be alone again, Tommy promised her in his mind, and she kissed him as if she'd heard him.

On the ninth day, Tommy decided Harley would be okay by herself for a few hours and so took the opportunity to go back to his house and get some more of his own things; he hadn't officially moved in but he rarely left so it was safe to assume he would need some more clothes and a clean gym kit. When he assured Harley that he wouldn't be long, she assured him back that she would be just fine without him for a bit, making him grunt a little as she let out a laugh that was fresh like a rush of citrus.

"Where you been?" was the first thing he heard as he walked through the front door of his house. He winced a little internally but kept up his stoic expression – he had pretty much forgotten about the outside world for the last week or so, had only thought enough about it to send his Pop a hurried text to say that he wouldn't be home for a while. Taking his time to reply, Tommy threw his jacket over the kitchen table and started making himself a coffee, well aware of the eyes boring into the back of his skull. He distantly thought that the house didn't smell of bleach or coffee. It didn't really smell of anything anymore.

"At Harley's," he finally said. He hoped that would be the end of the conversation because his temper was permanently frayed when it came to his father, a learned reflex.

"Why you spendin' so much time at that girl's place?" Tommy felt the tension in his shoulders increase, settling like a weight between the blades, and he took a deliberate sip of his coffee, not quite feeling it when it burned the roof his mouth.

"She's my girlfriend, Pop." His words were strangely, overly enunciated and Paddy frowned at the tone, though Tommy didn't turn round to see it.

"You've never been this attached to some girl before."

"She ain't just some girl, she's…" She's Harley. She's his.

"Well, that's great, Tommy. I'm glad you've got someone… but you're spendin' an awful lotta time with her. You haven't been home in over a week," Paddy pressed. Tommy shifted his shoulders, put down the coffee. He felt a snarl pull at his lips but then forced it away. This didn't need to be an argument.

"Her mom died, Pop." He tried not to spit it out and half-succeeded. He heard the little inhale of breath – not quite a gasp, but the sound of words falling away – and finally pivoted to look his father in his eyes which had become a screen of memory that buzzed past in the space of a heartbeat. Yes, Tommy thought, exactly.

"Oh." The word was dropped like a stone to the floor. "Well, it's good of ya to help her out, Tommy, but…"

"But,  _what?_ " Tommy couldn't help himself, he really couldn't.

"I know what you did for your mother, Tommy… I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone else's carer."

"You don't know what you're talkin' about," Tommy ground out, barely restraining the urge to lash out. Paddy sighed, fidgeted with the hem of his old shirt.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Ain't that ironic," Tommy spat and his father flinched like he'd struck him. "She's hurtin' and I'm helpin' her get through it 'cause that's what you do for the people you love. Not that you would know."

"Love, Tommy? How do you know?" The words were soft, gentle even, but Tommy snarled, dropping his mug into the basin with such force that it cracked.

"What right do you have to lecture me on love?" He was shaking from the rage, new and old, feeling like he was defending Harley, defending his Ma, defending his adolescent self.

"Look, son, I'm just worried 'bout you. Don't… don't confuse love for somethin' else." Tommy laughed and it was a horrid sound.

"You already taught me that one, Pop."

On the way back to the apartment, he thought about the things he had lost, how whole parts of him were made up of those missing, built of empty space. Harley made him want to unbuild himself, start over, but then who would he be?  _Don't confuse love for something else._ All he knew was that love was something to be stolen. Maybe that was what made it precious. He was terrified to find out. He was more terrified to not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 8 July 2017. The quote is by Raquel Isabelle de Alderete, also known as r.i.d. on her tumblr inkskinned.


	14. burn myself down

you have my permission not to love me;

i am a cathedral of deadbolts

and i'd rather burn myself down

than change the locks

**– 14 –**

* * *

Harley stared out the window, determined to not look at the urn that was sat on the coffee table. It was a pretty inappropriate place to put the remains of a body but she couldn't think of a better one, so there it sat. Magazines and cold cups of tea were littered around it like it was a houseplant and if she kept looking out the window, then she could pretend it was just that.

The grief came at times like this, when she was doing nothing except resolutely not thinking about it. At first she had tried to avoid the sadness but then she released that when she did that, it would harden into anger and that was a heavier burden to carry. The guilt was there too, no matter what she did, but she expected that. She had spent a lot of her life feeling guilty, even when her mother had been alive. It had become a ringing sound in her ear she had grown used to, an aftertaste that was always there.

There were kids down on the street below playing soccer and the sight made her smile. There was something about this city that she liked - well, something other than the obvious. She'd waited for it to become 'the place her mother had died' but there was an energy here that had yet to fade. The idea of having to leave it behind was one that was already hard to face, but it would come soon enough.

She sighed, running her hand through her damp hair. Tommy had made her shower again this morning - there were definite perks involved - and though getting out of bed these days was a difficult concept, she was so grateful to have him there to keep her moving. Plus, she'd seen what succumbing to tragedy did to a person - that had been the true thief of her mother's spirit away, long before she died.

She wondered where her dad was now. It been a while since they spoke which was a good thing, but it also made her feel unsettled. Should she contact him? Lily was his wife after all, they never actually got divorced in the end. When she'd been young, her mum would insist, hand on heart, that her father had been the most charming, loving man she'd ever known. What about now? She'd ask back, a child's defiance in her tone. Lily would sigh and shrug, like it cancelled itself out somehow. Harley had hated her for it, just a little.

Now, here she was. Head over heels for a man she barely knew except that he was loving, even charming. Not that she would ever compare Tommy to her father - she knew his father well enough to see the lines he had drawn for himself long before she had come into his life - but then, she supposed, she wouldn't ever find out what kind of man Tommy would grow into.

There wasn't long left until she would have to leave the country. Even if her ESTA wasn't running out, there was all the administration of declaring her mother deceased back home - she knew she would have to look into at some point, but didn't have the energy right now to do much else than sit and watch the sun stretch across the skyline, keeping back the autumn chill for just a while longer. Either way, she would have to leave eventually.

Oh, Tommy. He'd given her so much and she wasn't sure she could ever repay him for it. This little apartment had become theirs somehow, most of her stuff here instead of at Colt's. She hadn't even see the man since before Lily had passed, Tommy valiantly offering to do the collecting and informing. For somehow who had struggled so much to open up to her at the beginning, he was currently doing most of the emotional lifting in the relationship. She knew that she was forcing him to relive old nightmares but each time she apologised for it, he would frown in that way he did, telling her that she had nothing to be sorry for. It made her fall in love with him a little more each time.

"Baby?" Harley startled at his voice then sat up to peer over the top of the couch with a smile. Tommy was walking into the kitchen, a bag of his things in his hand.

"Hi there," she said, watching as he threw the stuff into the bedroom. There was tension in his shoulders but as he walked over to her, his expression was untroubled.

"You alright, baby?" She nodded, pleased that she meant it. Tommy shot her a quick beam of a smile that she hadn't seen him use on anyone else except her and she was glad, wanting to greedily hoard it for her own; there was nothing brighter.

He made them dinner and told her of his fight with his dad, though he skirted around the exact words that were spoken, and Harley knew that was for her benefit. It didn't really rile her up, understanding that their relationship was rather peculiar. They'd had one date, swapped tragedies the way normal couples would swap compliments, and after only a couple of weeks, Harley had practically moved in. Plus there was a death involved, which usually was left to at least the seventh date by her reckoning. Though, they only had three months so, she reasoned, they were just condensing it all down. It worked for them, that should be enough.

"He'll come around," she assured him, touching his arm briefly. "He's just worried about you."

"It's a lil' late for that," he replied, darkly. Harley shrugged then nodded. At least he was trying, she wanted to say but decided not to. Tommy had the right to his anger.

They slept easier that night, quiet. If Tommy woke to the smell of burning or if Harley woke to the smell of blood and rubies, neither of them said a word about it come the next morning.

"Hey, baby? Wanna meet my brother?" Harley looked up from where she was folding their clothes, endeared at the sight of Tommy stood in the doorway, nervously shifting. She didn't answer straight away, thinking hard.

"Really? You want me to meet him already?" What she meant was, at all? She had met his father by accident but Brendan lived a fair drive away so she had assumed that was a milestone in their short time together that wouldn't come to pass. The relationship between the two brothers was strained at best and though she hadn't even heard of Sparta before she met Tommy, she'd watched the clips on the internet. Watching his shoulder dislocating had made her feel sick.

"Yeah, if you wanna. It's his birthday and I said I'd go up." He looked about as uncomfortable as he sounded but Harley knew he wouldn't ask if her if didn't want them to go at all. He hadn't forgiven his brother for leaving him but he so desperately wanted to have a brother again. How could she say no to that?

"Sure, if you're okay with me meeting him, absolutely! When is it?"

"Next week, I'll drive us up there." Harley smiled and returned to the laundry, wondering why she felt like she had just misstepped. She didn't particularly want to be introduced to any more family but it was the hard reality that she was going to have to detach herself from her grieving eventually - she couldn't stay holed up in Tommy's apartment for the rest of her time there, and making Tommy stay with her was on the verge of cruel.

Yet, as the day to meet Brendan and his family drew nearer, she could feel herself getting more and more on edge. The journey up was almost awkward, something she hadn't felt between them since the beginning of their relationship. Harley kept going to break the silence but then the words would stick in her throat, and she would keep quiet, choosing instead to stare out the window. Tommy's knuckles got whiter as they neared their destination, his shoulders growing more tense which each mile.

When they arrived, Harley grabbed the flowers and wine from the backseat - her idea, Tommy had looked suitably bemused at the gifts - and they walked up to the door. Just as he rang the doorbell, she threw him a quick question as a joke, expecting it to be rhetorical.

"You did tell them I'm coming, right?" Tommy shot her a look then shrugged, and Harley's face dropped.

"Tommy!" she whined, feeling her cheeks warm. Her discomfort increased tenfold but Tommy just shrugged again.

"It doesn't matter," he said, voice gruff. Harley clutched the gifts to her chest like a shield and rolled her eyes.

"Of course they will, if they wanted a family dinner they probably just expected the family to turn up!" It was Tommy's turn to roll his eyes and he didn't respond, just turned back to the door. Harley huffed, knowing she had been dismissed, and wished she had never said yes to attending the dinner she hadn't even started.

The door was opened a moment later by a man she recognised to be Brendan, Tommy's older brother. He looked slightly less haggard than the last time they'd met, Tommy thought, supposing it was because of the prize money.

"Hey, Tommy! Oh, er, who's this?" Brendan stared at Harley who blushed and looked down, wanting to just hop back in the car and speed away.

"This is Harley, my girlfriend." Even to this day, the term always sounded odd coming out of his mouth and Brendan seemed to agree, taken aback as he was.

"Your girlfriend? You didn't say anything about bringing a girlfriend." His tone was polite, only surprised, but Harley was half ready to use the bottle in her hand to bludgeon herself to death. Tommy shifted, seeming to grow in size, and his hand came to rest on the small of her back. Immediately she calmed a little, but she still couldn't bring herself to look up yet.

"Slipped my mind." Brendan straightened up and smiled, realising his poor manners. He gestured for them to come in and he took their coats to hang up in the understairs cupboard. There was a delicious aroma of cooking food in the air and Harley's stomach growled, making Tommy laugh under his breath.

Brendan's home was large and quite splendid, undoubtedly built for family. Photographs were on every surface boasting two grinning girls. Pairs of little pink wellies were by the front door and Harley could see a crate of toys in the next room along with a small arts and crafts station. The walls themselves seemed to radiate happiness, and it was all very beautiful.

Every inch of it made Harley's skin crawl. She had never felt so out of place, surrounded by so much sunshine and warmth, that she looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see that she had left ugly, muddy footprints behind her. Tommy caught her eye and she could see that he felt the same: he looked too big for the tidy hallway.

"Please come through!" Brendan called, grinning from ear to ear, happy to see his brother again. The couple walked into the kitchen and were introduced to Brendan's wife, Tess. She was petite and beautiful, and she held herself with a steely strength.

"Here, these are for you," Harley said after a moment, handing over the flowers and wine to the woman who took them with a gracious look. "I'm sorry you weren't told I was coming, I hope I haven't put you out too much." The words tumbled out and she felt more than saw Tommy flash her a disapproving frown, knowing that he felt the apology unearned, but she had to ease the tension somehow.

"Oh, don't be silly!" Tess said with a laugh, putting the gifts on the kitchen counter. "I always make extras: Conlon boys are known for their huge appetites!" Brendan laughed but Tommy didn't, so Tess quickly moved on. "Please, take a seat, let's have a drink!"

"Yes, alcohol would be lovely," Harley agreed, wincing a little when the husband and wife laughed but Tommy, again, stayed silent. Realising that she would have to play the social one of the two for the evening, she complimented Tess on her lovely home, how good her food smelled, how beautiful her children were. Brendan pulled his brother aside and though Harley watched them with an eagle eye, no fights broke out so she forced herself to relax and enjoy her wine.

By the time they sat down for the meal, she had loosened up a bit but Tommy remained as tense as ever. His responses were short and gruff, and though everyone was pretending like that was normal, it seemed to be getting to Tess. Her questions became more and more pointed, and Harley thought that she had good intentions but was going about it all the wrong way. It was halfway through the main meal that the delicate balance started to fracture.

"So, Tommy, why didn't you tell us you had a girlfriend?" Tess asked as she cut her lamb.

"It didn't come up," Tommy said stiffly, gripping his cutlery too tight. He had barely touched his food which was an alarm in itself as Harley knew he loved lamb and Tess was a pretty good cook.

"I asked you on the phone, Tom!" Brendan contradicted with a laugh, not quite sensing the dangerous road he was embarking on. "What, not important enough to tell me but important enough to bring to dinner?" Harley cringed, wondering if it was possible to feel more uncomfortable than she already was. She knew Brendan didn't mean to talk about her like she wasn't in the room but Tommy took offence.

"I didn't think my relationship was any of your business," he ground out. Tess looked appraisingly at Harley who kept her attention squarely on her plate.

"But you've only been together a few weeks, you said."

"So?" The single syllable was spat like a curse and Tess let out a heavy sigh, putting her cutlery down. Brendan eyed his wife and brother but kept quiet.

"Oh, Tommy, calm down. It was just a question, no need to have a tantrum." It was poor word choice, even Tess knew it, but she didn't excuse the mistake. Harley looked up now, not sure whether to jump in or stay quiet. Brendan seemed to be struggling with the same uncertainty.

"Oh, fuck off, Tess," Tommy said with a sneer and all hopes of getting the evening back on track quickly vanished. Brendan scowled, protective of his wife.

"Don't speak to her like that!" Tommy just scoffed and stared down hard at the table.

"Maybe we should talk about something else," Harley tried, hoping to diffuse the situation but instead she got an irritated look from their hosts and she knew then that they hadn't wanted her there at all. She briefly wondered what this dinner would have been like if it had been Tommy alone.

"I'm sorry to be rude but you're not a part of this. This is between family," Brendan said, tone firm. Of course it was between family, Harley thought, only family could cultivate this toxic energy at a birthday dinner.

"Sorry, but I think I am a part of this," she disagreed, putting her hand on Tommy's thigh. "I know you don't know me but-"

"No, we don't know you. Maybe it's best if you leave." Harley was gobsmacked as she stared at Tess. She didn't know how to respond but Tommy was biting back before she could form a thought.

"You're kickin' her out now?"

"She's not wanted here," Tess said tightly, not looking at her. Brendan clenched his jaw before leaning towards his brother.

"Look, Tommy. We just wanted to speak to you, as family. We don't want to have to deal with your fans at a time like this."

"Fan?" Harley repeated, the word choking her, her hands grasping the side of the table with enough pressure to hurt. "I'm not a -" Tess put up a hand to cut her off and Harley was so mortified that she snatched her hand back from Tommy's leg and pushed her chair back, ready to tuck tail and run.

"Tommy, please, you're my brother. We just need to talk. Just you and me, as brothers. Please." Brendan was using the same tone that he did when he dislocated his brother's shoulder. At least, that's what Harley could remember of it. Tommy was remembering the words he was saying instead, the way he held him as they left the cage.

"Tommy," Harley said but Tess apparently had had enough of her presence.

"Please, just go. You shouldn't be here." Yeah, she could see that, could see how it was a mistake accompanying Tommy at all. She stood up and watched Tommy, expecting him to follow her but he stayed where he was, not looking at her.

"Tommy," she tried again but he just dropped his head. "Right, okay." She got the message. Without another word she turned on her heel, collected her coat and bag, then left.

The cool evening breeze hit her face on as she closed the door behind her and immediately she began to cry. Her eyes burned as she screwed them up, clenching her jaw tight while the tears fell down her cheeks. She didn't know where to go. Tommy still had the car keys and it had taken a while to get to Brendan's house, so she couldn't make her way back to the apartment.

At least it wasn't raining, she thought miserably as she headed down the path and past the car. The street was quiet, very suburban, so she just picked a direction and kept walking. Her coat was thin seeing how she hadn't expecting to be out in the cold for long so she wrapped her arms around herself as she walked, sniffling a little. At the end of the road she turned to stare back at the house, trying to be understanding and not hurt that Tommy hadn't come after her. She knew that he needed to speak to his brother alone, and that Tess and Brendan hadn't meant to be rude and this was the first real time they were seeing Tommy after Sparta… but still.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back and kept on walking. Eventually, just as the sun was setting, she came across a little hotel, and she could hear laughter and splashing. She dug around in her pocket and pulled out the crumpled notes she had left there from her last grocery trip and counted them wearily. Enough for a drink, she thought, eyeing the flashing neon cocktail sign.

"Evenin' honey, what can I get you?" asked the bartender as she took a seat at the bar. The man was cleaning out a glass with a cloth and the smile he gave her seemed genuine enough.

"A glass of your sweetest wine please." Her sweet tooth would get her through this, she hoped. The man nodded and set down a glass of pale pink wine before heading towards another customer. Harley slid across some money and started to sip at the wine, staring into the empty space behind the bar. She had put her phone out in front of her but it never lit up, the screen stubbornly dark. Each time she thought about it, the hurt grew a little sharper but she just pursed her lips and kept drinking.

"You waitin' for someone, honey?" the bartender eventually asked her as night came and she was still there. It wasn't a stretch to assume that she'd been stood up: she was in a pretty dress, a nice if not unsuitable for the weather coat and high heels that were already making her feet ache from the unprecedented journey to the bar. Harley shrugged.

"I suppose I am. Not sure if he's ever going to turn up though." She sounded down enough that the bartender leaned against on the bar, face kind.

"Well, what does he look like, honey? He might just be lost." Harley laughed a little, shaking her head.

"Tall, big, muscles. Tattoos everywhere you look. Looks like he's going to punch you but he's actually a big softie. He's called Tommy, if he… if he turns up." The bartender smiled affectionately and straightened up.

"Sure thing, honey. If I see him, I'll let you know." Harley tried to smile but it was more of a grimace but the man didn't seem to notice as he started talking to another customer.

After another glass of wine, Harley decided she'd had enough of sitting and headed out into the garden. There was no around, it too cold for anyone else to venture out by the pool, but Harley appreciated the solitude. The air was crisp, bringing her out of her sullen stupor, and she started laughing at herself. Here she was, moping around because Tommy dared to spend time with his family without her. Really, she should have guessed that was Brendan's intention in the first place and showing up unannounced was of course going to cause some tension, and she knew that Tess hadn't meant to offend, that she was trying to get Tommy to engage with them. She knew that, she did.

It still hurt like a bitch, though.

Her feet traced the edge of the pool as she gazed up at the stars, bright against the black cloak of the sky. She thought of Tommy, the darkness he held within him, the secrets he wouldn't tell. She wondered what kind of life he would have had if you took the death away. He'd experienced more tragedy and suffering than she had thought possible and he had somehow come out at the other end still willing to throw himself in front of the bullet, still so full of compassion and endless patience. Who else would have cared for her the way he did after her mother's death? There were friends back home in London but she couldn't comprehend any of them being able to understand her the way he did then. He held onto life the way a child would catch butterflies, those he had lost strung up like fairy lights in the cathedral of his soul and they shone so bright.

Tommy thought he had lost all of his fights but he didn't see that he was fighting one each day and my god, Harley thought, he was winning. Who else, she asked. Who else? Shaking her head, she took another step but there was nothing for her foot to land on. By the time she realised she was falling, the thought was swallowed by a flash of hot pain in her temple and then a flood of water that rushed down her throat. She tried to breathe, choked and then - nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 9 July 2017. The quote from this chapter is by Rachel McKibbens fro 'Letter From My Brain To My Heart'.


	15. possessed by light

tell me how all this and love too

will ruin us

these, our bodies, possessed by light

tell me we'll never get used to it

**– 15 –**

* * *

Hearing the door click behind her made Tommy feel sick. He wanted to get up, he wanted to chase after her but he owed it to himself to hear what Brendan had to say. All his life he had prayed that he would get his brother back, no matter how angry he was with him. When Brendan had told him he wasn't coming with Tommy and their Ma, it had hurt more than any belt from Paddy ever could. When he had stood over his mother's dead body, the absence of his brother nearly overcame the grief of losing her. He had felt like he'd lost his entire family in one go, and it was a pain that had coloured every part of his life after that.

Now he had a chance to fix it - or at least get some closure. Their fight at Sparta had been so emotionally charged that coming out the other side was draining enough without rehashing everything else, but so much time had passed now and their empty promises of family and never again were fading fast. There was a quiet desperation in the lines of Brendan's face that had Tommy remaining in his seat, even though it physically hurt to let Harley walk away. He hadn't even been able to look at her, knowing that if he had seen the look in her eye, he would have left the house in a second. But he had to do this.

"Thank you, Tommy," Brendan murmured, eyes intense. Tommy just shook his head, feeling like there was gravel beneath his skin.

"Don't. Just - don't. What dya want to say?" Brendan swallowed then looked at his wife who sighed and stood up. She picked up the plates of half eaten food and went to walk into the kitchen before pausing and turning to look at her brother in law.

"I'm sorry if I came off harsh. I know you've not got a lotta love for me, but I really do see you as part of this family. Just give us a chance." Having said her piece, she turned and closed the door behind her, not waiting to hear Tommy's response which was just as well as he couldn't fathom one. Tess had always been the one to steal his brother away, and he hated the idea of her. Yet he knew nothing about her as a person except that she was always there - but hell, if that was her only crime, she was better than most people.

It was just the two of them now and it was the least violent setting they'd been in for over a decade which was saying a lot. Brendan looked pained, thoughts racing. He'd always been the smart one, Tommy thought, whereas he'd been the fighter. Still lost though.

"Tommy, I'm glad you stayed. I've been wantin' to talk to you ever since… well, for a while. I made you a promise that I'd be there for you now but I haven't seen you for so long. I don't want us to drift apart again, not after everything we went through."

Jesus, did Tommy hate talking about this emotional shit. He found it hard to put what he was feeling into words and after years of being taught by every authority figure in his life, including himself, to keep all that shit inside, being invited to put it all out onto the table now felt like hacking open a wound long scarred over.

"I don't want that either," he finally got out, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. It got easier after that though, Brendan leading the conversation which really was quite short. It was founded on a lifetime of guilt, Tommy knew that, but he also knew that Brendan needed to act upon that guilt. It was only fair to give him a chance to make things better when it all had stemmed from the decision to stay with the woman he loved.

Tommy wondered for the first time what he would have done in his brother's position if he was forced to make that decision now. His brother or Harley? Which was when he realised that it had gotten dark outside and though he had assumed at the time that Harley would have just waited for him in the car, it struck him now that the car keys were still in his pocket.

"I need to go," he declared, coming to a stand as he said so. Brendan, who had been about to breach the sore topic of their childhood looked a bit crestfallen before too realising the time. He came to a stand and Tess appeared behind them - had she been listening the whole time? - with his coat in her hand. He tried to take it from her with as little aggression as possible, knowing that really, she didn't deserve it. Her words to Harley had been unnecessarily abrupt but she had been looking out for her husband, his brother.

At the door, Brendan pulled him in for a hug that Tommy only resisted for half a second. It felt good to have his brother in his arms again but he also knew that a hug and a conversation wasn't going to heal all that time lost. Still, perhaps they were one step closer to getting there than they had been before.

The door closed behind him and the first thing he saw was that Harley was not there waiting for him. It wasn't the night air that made him go cold as he did a sweep of the area, his mind cataloging all the possible ways she could have gone. He was, of course, resolutely assuming she had decided of her own free will to walk away and hadn't been taken. It was too early for that kind of fear.

Diving into the car, he pulled out his phone that he had left in the glove compartment and checked to see if he had any messages. None. He quickly dialled her number but it just rang out each time he tried. Next he checked her social media accounts hoping she had checked in somewhere but there was nothing - except, there! She had left a comment on a picture, tagging a person he didn't know, saying me right now with a symbol of a wine glass. That had been only twenty minutes ago. He almost laughed - trust Harley to leave him a trail of emojis to find her. It was the modern day manhunt.

The nearest bar was at the hotel on the corner a couple of streets away. He hoped that good fortune would shine down on him and he would find her there, waiting with a glass of that sweet shit she liked to drink, cursing his name. Nothing would make him happier right in that moment.

It didn't take long to arrive and he headed straight towards the bar, eyes scanning constantly for a sign of her. The bartender saw him coming and looked him up and down in a way as if he knew him.

"Can I help you, sir?" the man asked as he approached.

"Have you seen a young woman here, dark hair, red dress, green eyes? Probably drinking pink wine or somethin' sweet." He hoped he didn't sound like some creep leering over a girl by herself because that's exactly what he would assume if he was on the other end of this but the bartender just sent him a big smile.

"Let me guess, Tommy?"

"Er, yeah?"

"I was asked by a young lady in a red dress to keep an eye out for a guy called Tommy, and I have to say you match the description." Tommy couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the man pointed towards some French doors at the back of the room that led out into the garden. "She went that way that not long ago. She's been waiting for you."

Tommy winced a little but the man just smiled and walked away. Tommy hurried out into the garden, his apology already on his tongue as he looked around, almost excited to see her. Except, he couldn't. It wasn't a large area and it was very still, only the sound of crickets disturbing the silence.

"Harley?" he called, walking around the picnic benches and sun loungers, squinting through the darkness but he couldn't see anything. "Harley, baby?" As he got nearer the pool he could hear the water slap against the side and he glanced over. A dark shape caught his eye and looked harder. There was something on the surface of the water, unmoving, and as he got closer he saw the red of a dress and dark hair -

"Harley!"

Tommy dove into the water, sending it rearing up onto the stone tiles but he didn't even notice, too focused on pulling his girlfriend out of the water. He quickly turned her over so that her face was out the water and the sight of blood on her forehead made his heart clench like a fist inside his chest. Cursing, he waded back to the edge and laid her there, clambering up after her as fast as he could. As he turned her head to the side and checked for a pulse - yes, there! - he could taste the onset of panic but instead he listened to his training and started applying CPR, counting each mouth-to-mouth and chest compression in his head.

"Come on, baby!" he begged as he took a breath, before beginning again. The third time around, Harley suddenly convulsed, choking on water. Tommy guided her head to the side, allowing her to vomit it up. He rubbed her back, trying to see if there was any blood in the water she was coughing up. When she collapsed back down, he pulled her gently into his arms.

"I've called an ambulance!" said someone from the other side of the pool. It was the bartender who was clutching a phone in his hand, his face pale as he stared across at Harley in shock, a crowd of guests huddled by the entranceway. Nodding his thanks, Tommy held Harley until the paramedics came.

They were kind but focused, asking him questions as they strapped an oxygen mask to her face after checking her airway, then lifted her onto a stretcher and wheeled her through the bar. He hopped in the ambulance beside her and held her hand as they sped towards the hospital. Harley's eyes flashed open a few times but when he said her name, she didn't respond. Her breathing was laboured so the paramedic next to him inserted a tube down her windpipe, saying words like hypoxemia and endotracheal intubation, but they just flew over his head. He knew that it was still serious, that she wasn't in the clear yet, but she was alive so he just focused on that instead.

The waiting was the hardest part. Not being able to see her. A doctor came to talk to him after the first hour with an update, telling him that they had done a CT scan to see the extent of her head wound, and that they had her on a ventilator to support her breathing.

"We're going to have to keep her for observation so we can monitor her blood oxygen levels and any onset of ARDS, or any other complications from the near-drowning. The damage so far doesn't seem to be too extensive so it was good that you found her when you did. I'll let you know what the results of the scan show, and if anything else arises. If you have any questions, please ask one of the nurses who will find me."

It was hard for Tommy to not assume the worst. He was a learned pessimist: the people he loved didn't walk away from things like this. But he couldn't think like that or the panic would set in so he held himself like a Marine and waited, and waited, and waited.

Finally, they let him see her. She was still unconscious so he sat at her side and took her hand. It was warmer than it had been the last time he held her and he spied the extra blankets that had been tucked around her, but she was still so pale. Her hair had dried in a wild curly mess which a nurse had kindly brushed back against the pillow. He suddenly remembered Harley saying how senere her mother had looked, lying dead, and a wave of terror threatened to choke him.

"Please, baby, you gotta wake up, you gotta be okay. Don't leave me like this, please, I can't - I can't lose you, too. I love you, baby, I really fuckin' do. I'll give you the world, the whole world, whatever you want, if you just wake up."

The nurses asked him to leave after that, saying they needed to do some more tests to make sure there wasn't any swelling on her brain. Tommy left, feeling like a ghost chained to a graveyard.

It wasn't until a couple hours later that the doctor came to find him, a gentle smile on her tired face. She touched his shoulder to wake him from the light doze he had fallen into and he snapped up, automatically scanning the room for a threat, heart racing. The doctor stepped back to give him his space and he cleared his throat, his mouth full of sawdust.

"How is she?" he asked and she just nodded towards the room. He followed her soundlessly, fearing the worst, but then he saw her sat up, piled high with blankets and her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Harley!" He darted over to her side, his hand coming up to gently brush her face, relief cascading through him like a fire. She smiled up at him a little nervously but mostly pleased and she leaned into his palm, feeling safe now that he was here.

"Hi," she croaked, and the doctor immediately scolded her, saying she would need to rest her voice for a few days. Her throat and lungs had been through a lot and there was still a chance that damage could set in, she said, but that for the moment it was looking good.

"Thank God," Tommy whispered and kissed Harley on the temple, thanking whoever or whatever would listen that his prayers had, for once, been answered. Harley giggled a little and kissed his cheek before leaning back against her pillows, looking exhausted.

The doctor - Doctor Andrews, Tommy remembered - started telling them of the things they should be looking out for in case any symptoms started to manifest. Tommy made a list in his mind of every single one, and questioned the doctor on what he could do to help. Harley smirked but he was too intent on listening to notice.

They kept her in for another few hours before releasing her early afternoon the next day. The nurses bid them farewell as they left, and once at the door, Tommy scooped Harley up into his arms and carried her to the car - he had collected it just shortly before she was released so they wouldn't have to do the long walk back to Brendan's. Once he was sure she was comfortable, they headed back to the apartment.

"I'm sorry," Harley whispered as they pulled onto the highway. She sounded so small that Tommy glanced at her, surprised.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I should have gone after you." Harley looked down, still feeling the hurt but knowing why it had happened that way.

"Tommy's, it's okay. You found me, you saved my life." She rested her hand on his thigh and he quickly covered it with his own.

"If I had come after you sooner…"

"Don't do that to yourself, baby. You found me. I'm okay, I'm going to be okay. Anyway, I knew you needed to have that talk with your brother, you needed to stay. I should have told you where I was or stayed by the car, or… but that doesn't matter now. I'm okay. You found me, and we're okay." Tommy felt the need to argue but then he saw Harley's determined expression and instead he laughed, pulling her hand up to his lips.

"Yeah, baby, we're okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 8 July 2017. The quote is from the poem Scheherazade by Richard Siken. You may notice I use a lot of his quotes because everything he writes is gold.


	16. tell me about the dream

tell me about the dream

where we pull the bodies out of the lake

and dress them in warm clothes again

how it was late

and no one could sleep

**– 16 –**

* * *

The bed rocked as Tommy began to twist and thrash in his sleep as if he was being electrocuted, startling Harley awake. She was disorientated for a second but then Tommy jerked again, letting out a whimper, and she sat up, alarmed.

"Tommy?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder, his skin damp with cold sweat, but the moment her fingers brushed against him, he flinched and threw out his arm like he was fending off an attack. Harley had to throw herself backwards to avoid getting an elbow to the face and her eyes were wide as saw at the way his muscles strained like a bowstring pulled too tight, his eyes racing behind closed lids.

"Please!" he cried out, panting hard.

"Baby, it's okay, it's just nightmare, you're okay," she tried to soothe but her words couldn't reach him through the sand dunes of a world far from here. There were ghosts in her memory too but none of them had the power she saw here - the terror his incited had sunk talons deep into this man she loved and she didn't know how to free him from it.

She'd thought that she'd seen his nightmares but this was something else, something unholy. This wasn't a dark dream but a memory relived, torturing him right before her eyes. The sheets were tangled around his legs and when he tried to kick himself free but couldn't, he cried out in panic.

"No, please, no!" he begged but what was he begging for? She was afraid to find out.

"Tommy," she said again, knowing it was useless. She wanted to cry but knew that wouldn't help so she blinked away the tears and got to her knees on the bed, trying to think how to calm him down without receiving a black eye in the process. She could call for help… but who would come? His brother, his father? For all she knew, they were the villains in his nightmare.

How did it get this bad? Well, what a stupid question. Like Tommy would ever want to share this side of him to anyone, even a stranger, she thought. He needed help though, that much was obvious. Oh, why did he never tell her? She wondered whether seeing her in a hospital bed that had triggered such a violent episode, wished that he had said something, anything!

Under her gaze, Tommy suddenly went crashing to the floor, pulling the bedsheets with him. Cursing, Harley scrambled after him to see him lying on his side, very still.

"Tommy? Tommy!" Fearing that he'd hurt himself on the fall, she went to his side and rested her hand on his hip, praying that he could hear her now. Under her touch he started to shiver as the nightmare began to fade.

"Please, baby, you need to wake up," she said, trying to keep her tone calm despite how badly her hands were trembling. His eyes opened and she sighed in relief, her hand moving up to brush through his hair like how she would do when they were lying on the sofa in the fading sunlight, with her reading and him just dozing.

"H-Harley?" His voice was strained from his yelling, and he raised his head a little.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here. You're okay, I'm here." His head dropped again into the crook of his arm and his shoulders began to shake. Harley, tears silently dripping down her cheeks, began to hum an old lullaby her mum had sung to her as a child. She couldn't remember the words but the tune was a peaceful one, and for a long while Tommy remained on the floor while she sang, her fingers gentle against his scalp.

Eventually Tommy got to his feet, not looking at Harley as he did so. She moved back to give him his space, knowing that uncomfortable he must be feeling having her see this part of him, this terrible secret. He swayed as he stood, casting a look she couldn't see at their dishevelled bed. Then, without a word, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Harley wasn't sure whether to follow: she knew that Tommy preferred solitude in these moments but she also remembered how she'd felt when he hadn't come after her and decided that this time he needed someone to be there. When she walked through she saw him hunched over the counter, an already empty whiskey glass in his hand. Ignoring her doubts, she stood behind him and without hesitation wrapped her arms around his chest, resting her cheek against his back. She felt him tense under her touch and she thought he would push her off but then he relaxed and turned in her grip so that he could pull her to him. He tucked her head beneath his chin and held so tight it stole her breath away but she didn't move. She was engulfed by the heat of him and knew that her fear had been only for him, never for herself.

"I love you," she told him, her words fierce like she expected him to argue.

"I know," he replied, and it felt like a staggering leap of progress. She wanted to say that he could tell her if he wanted to but he seemed to hear the words before she spoke and he huffed a laugh.

"I know," he said again, and then he started to tell her. She stayed where she was, wrapped around him as close as she could while he began to unlock all the darkest parts of himself, those secrets she thought she'd never see.

He told her the story of Manny and his unit, how he had been in the middle of their massacre, the only one to walk away. How he had been flown out and then released with nowhere to go, so had crawled back to his Pop's, stinking of booze and hate. He told her of Sparta, the casino, the hotel room with Moby Dick, the fight with his brother in the cage. She walked with him all the way up to the day she had arrived at Colt's gym, oblivious to the journey he had been forced to travel and everything he'd lost along the way.

It took a long time and the sun was beginning to rise by the time he was done, but they stayed where they were, entangled, until the very end. Harley became a safety net that refused to break beneath the weight of Tommy's grief. She would take it all if she could, every thought of sadness and anger, she would draw it from him like poison from a wound and consume it until he could sleep easy again. But it wasn't that simple, no matter how much she loved him. All she could was be there, listen, love him - and she would do just that.

"Don't leave," he whispered into her hair after a stretch of silence. Harley squeezed him even tighter and screamed a prayer in her head, damning herself and the world for the unfairness of it all.

"I won't," she promised, not knowing how she could ever keep it.

* * *

It took a few days for Tommy to stop hovering around Harley every minute of the the day, waiting for her to pass out or develop some horrible illness. So dedicated was he to the task of monitoring the potential onset of any complications from her near-death experience, that he took all of Harley's progressively ruder protests on the chin until finally he could reassure himself that she was okay. Her lungs hadn't sustained any long-lasting damage and the doctor at their local hospital was happy with her blood oxygen levels. The only visible reminder of the incident was the stitches that were to be removed at the weekend. Tommy could barely believe it but she was okay. She was still here.

"So, can I go buy some more bread by myself or do I need a bodyguard?" Harley asked him, already prepared to make a run for it in case he gave her the wrong answer. Tommy just grinned before shooing her away, acting disinterested when she gave her sarcastic thanks. Turning away, he went back to fixing himself a protein shake, waiting for the sound of the door to close when instead he heard Harley swear in alarm. He moved on instinct, appearing at her side before she had the chance to call his name but he relaxed when he saw who was there.

"Brendan - what're you doin' here?" Brother stared at brother; they'd come so far but there was still so many years lost in the gulf between them.

"I came here to apologise," he said, turning to look at Harley who felt pinned in place by those pale blue eyes, a cold shade in a warm face. Surprised by the turn of events, Harley gathered her composure and stepped aside to grant Brendan enough space to come in. Not that it was really her place to do so seeing how it was Tommy's apartment but he didn't seem to mind. They all headed to the sitting room and watching them then, Harley could see how their differences: Tommy was the broader one, his body lined with thick ropes of muscle, all force and brute strength like a sea storm, whereas Brendan was tall and lean, weathered by a mostly happy life, the ocean in him calm yet bracing. Yet brothers there no doubt were, cut from the same cloth, carrying the same heart, the same knuckles.

"Sorry to just drop in on you like this but I was in the area and…" Brendan trailed off before catching Harley's gaze with a familiar intensity. "Harley, I offer you my sincerest apologies on behalf of me and my wife. We handled the situation at the dinner horrendously and our manners were appalling." He sounded so sincere that Harley couldn't even take a moment to pretend to think about her answer.

"Please, there is nothing for you to apologise for," she insisted, unconsciously wringing her hands. She really did hate being put on the spot and she still felt a little embarrassed at being told to leave, but she'd had this conversation with herself a hundred times already. Wrong method, perhaps. Right intentions, definitely. "You needed to speak to Tommy alone, that's perfectly understandable. Honestly, no harm came of it."

Tommy shifted, his face drawn and Harley mentally pleaded with him not to say it but he did anyway.

"Some harm came of it," he muttered, watching her, and she sent him an irritated look. Brendan caught the exchange and was confused.

"What do you mean?" Harley went to give him some fluffy bullshit answer but Tommy got there first and she wanted to strangle him.

"She got rushed to hospital that night," he said and Harley groaned out loud. What a great way to paraphrase, she thought to herself, and hurried to explain.

"I waited for Tommy at a nearby hotel and I went into the gardens. I accidently slipped and fell into the pool but Tommy found me and I'm fine," she stressed, more for Tommy's benefit than Brendan who was still looking a bit wide-eyed.

"I am sorry," he insisted and Harley sighed.

"Yeah, I know. It's okay. Look, why don't I leave you two to it? I gotta go to the shops anyway." She reached up to give Tommy a kiss on the cheek and Brendan expected him to be embarrassed but he just held the woman to him for a moment before letting her go.

"Be careful," he called after her.

"I am always am!" she trilled back, rolling her eyes as she pulled the door closed behind her.

"You never are," Tommy said to himself before looking back to Brendan who was smiling a little. "What?"

"Nothin' man, you just look… happy. You and the guy I met on the beach - it's like you're a different person." Tommy shrugged but knew he was right. He could remember how he had felt standing on that beach with the cold sea air not enough to cool the rage in his belly as Brendan showed him pictures of his daughters. How he had loathed those two girls, the jealousy he had felt over children was shameful now but seeing his brother, the one person he had looked up to as a kid, brandish his new family had hurt him. It was like Brendan had upgraded, left all the bad shit behind, including him.

But things were different now. He had a job, he had a place of his own, he had a girlfriend who he actually trusted enough to tell his shit to. That woman had seen the worst of his nightmares and had still been there in the morning, holding him just as tight and fuck, that wasn't something even he was dumb enough to throw away. He was able to think about this shit now, not just feel it; he could look past the hurt of a child.

He used to spend hours imagining what would have happened if Brendan had left with him and Ma, how all the bad stuff would have turned into good stuff, somehow, and things would have been alright. But he knew enough of life now to know that's not how it worked. Ma would still have been ill, would still have died. He probably still would have joined the Marines - hell, Brendan might have joined too, and what if something had happened to him? Or, without Brendan there to dissuade him, what if Paddy had chased them down - that would have been a reunion he's not sure they would have lived through. Then, without the wonder of Brendan's two beautiful daughters to guide him, would Paddy have ever turned to sobriety?

No, the bad stuff wouldn't have turned into good stuff, just worse stuff. Brendan was happy and now so was Tommy - and maybe it was all because his brother had chosen to stay.

"Thanks, man," he said after a while. "Thanks for comin' over. It means a lot to me… and Harley." Brendan smile, pleased at the way his impromptu trip was going, and walked over to pull his brother into a hug. This time Tommy held him just as tight, the two of them slapping each other on the backs before pulling away. It was weird but they felt… lighter, somehow.

"I love you, man," Brendan said, grinning. Tommy laughed at his dumb expression, just like when they were kids.

"I love you too." There, he said it. He could say this shit, he could.

"And I'm glad you two are together. Tess says to tell you that she's sorry she comes across as such a bitch sometimes, she can't help it. She's happy for you both." They both laughed at that and headed back towards the door. "Anyway, I'm hoping we can try the dinner again sometime. Harley is invited, of course, and I promise no one will get told to leave."

"Sounds good, just let me know." They bade farewell and as Tommy watched him leave, he couldn't believe how damn civil they'd been. It felt good to know that he had his brother back, even after all these years.

By the time Harley gotten back, he'd finished his protein shake and was watching the news. She quickly put away her purchases before coming to sit next to him, pulling his arm around her shoulder so she could rest against his chest. He kissed her crown, enjoying the feel of her so close.

"How did it go?"

"Good, yeah." Harley seemed almost surprised and he laughed. "Yeah, I know, but it was. He said Tess says sorry to you, by the way."

"So she should! Like I'm just some fan," she snorted, sitting up straight. Tommy feigned hurt and surprise, making her giggle at his expression.

"What, you're not my fan? Get out," he ordered, leaning over so that she had to lie flat against the sofa. He kissed her neck as she snickered, her hands in his hair.

"Maybe you should persuade me?" she asked, her breathing hitched as he gently bit the flesh of her breast.

"Mmm, maybe I should," and he already had something in mind. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he stood up and went to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 10 July 2017. The quote is from the same poem as last chapter, Scheherazade by Richard Siken.


	17. an end to you

there is an end to you

don't fear it, don't wallow; flowers wilt, rivers dry up

even the stars extinguish themselves

have your time and then

let it go

**– 17 –**

* * *

Where did the time go? Days had turned into weeks which turned into months and now here she was at the end of the line. The piece of paper which allowed her to remain in Pittsburgh was lying crumpled in front of her and soon it would be void. She wanted to rip the damn thing to shreds but that would solve nothing. The flight was already booked, had been since before they'd arrived.

When she'd reached the city with her mum in tow, she had immediately started counting down the days until she could go back home. The whole trip had been exhausting and she had missed her own city terribly, especially when she would leave her mother at the hospital, returning to lie awake on Colt's couch until it was time to get up again.

Her entire life had been rooted in London with the lights, the people, the attitude. When she had left it all behind she had assured herself and her friends that it was only temporary - but now she wished she didn't ever have to go back. By falling in love with Tommy, she had fallen in love with his city as well. London had always been home to her, no matter what befell her, but now she wasn't so sure. So much would be missing with no way to get it back.

Not that it mattered what she wanted. She had to leave whether she wanted to or not, and she had to leave today. They hadn't spoken about it really but Tommy knew this was coming, three months is not long enough to forget where the finish line resides.

What was she going to do? This was it, she would have to wait another ninety days before getting a new ESTA and then, what? She would alternate between three months here, three months there? She wasn't sure she had the energy for that life and she certainly didn't have the money.

Tommy would say he would go with her, she knew it. It hadn't been long but she knew in her heart that he would follow her if she wanted him to, and she did, she did but… could she put the burden on him to constantly travel back and forth? He had so much potential in his life now: him and Brendan were becoming brothers again, his shoulder was healed enough that Colt was booking him in for fights, his dad was here and she knew he would want to keep an eye on Paddy, no matter how much they argued. After everything he had been through, he was finally regaining a life here in Pittsburgh so how could she ask him to give it all up and follow her across the world just for a chance of what if?

Then came the thought that she had desperately tried to ignore but couldn't any longer: who would they be in that type of relationship? From the beginning, they had resigned themselves to three months, condensing all their madness and tragedy into a handful of weeks because they knew that their time had been running out from the get go. There was always an end in sight and that had formed the foundation of who they were together.

What if they took that intensity and dragged it out with constant flights, traveling, moving around - would it twist into boredom, even resentment? What if Tommy realised that his love for Harley was just… gratitude? Lust? Maybe even the excitement of it all? She wouldn't survive watching him walk away from her, it would be too painful.

No, she couldn't do that to him, to them. It was enough, they were done.

By the time Tommy arrived home, her bags were packed and sat on the bed, her passport sticking out the side pocket. She stared down at them as he greeted her from the hallway, dropping his gym kit and shoes at the front door. Her throat was too tight to speak so he came searching for her when he didn't get a reply and she could feel his gaze as he took in the sight before him.

"You're goin'?" he asked, voice low. It wasn't something he could argue with and he knew that this day would come, but it still made something inside him lurch seeing her stood with all her things packed, the wardrobe empty, the little touches that made this place their's and not his gone.

"Yeah," she said finally, her throat dry. "I'm going." When she turned to face him, she was ashen, eyes downcast. Tommy frowned and went over to take her hands, holding them tightly in his own.

"I'll come with you," he said without hesitation. He hadn't expected Harley to just pack up without them talking about it first but nevertheless, he had known that he would follow her the moment she had opened her eyes in that hospital bed. He smiled a little, trying to get her to do the same, but when she finally met his eyes, he didn't like what he saw.

"No, Tommy. You won't."

"What dya mean? Of course I will," he argued, feeling like he was missing something.

"Tommy, I…" She looked pained and he cast his gaze up and down her, taking in the whole of her. He didn't understand why she was acting so odd; this wasn't the end. "You can't come with me."

"Then I'll get the next flight," he said slowly, really hating where it felt like this was leading.

"No, I mean - you can't come with me… at all."

The moment she said the words, he knew that  _of course_ that was what she meant. She was leaving and she didn't want him to come with her. He let go of her hands which clenched into fists at her sides.

"What?" Harley flinched from the staccato of his tone and took a step back, already trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"I'm sorry, Tommy, but I can't… fuck, I can't  _do_ this." She meant the conversation but he thought she meant their entire relationship and as that thought set like the sun on his face, she knew she couldn't correct him. It would be easier for him to let her go if he thought that was what she wanted.  _It's not, Tommy, I promise you it's not!_

Tommy almost felt like he wanted to laugh. How else was this going to end? Did he really think that Harley in all her glory would give up her entire life for  _him?_ She was destined for greatness, it was written in every line of her body, and that was something he couldn't give her. He would love her, he would love her with every fibre of his being, but he couldn't give her the life she deserved.

Instead he would drown in the ocean of her absence, a burning shipwreck left stranded on her waves tempestuous. When she had first crashed into his life, he had been too eager to slake his thirst from her depths and in his madness has forgotten that saltwater never gave, it only took. But God, he would let her take it all.

"I'm sorry," she whispered but Tommy turned away, unable to even look at her. He understood but he still hated her for it. He had started to believe that maybe she was different, that she was untouched by the plague that had swept through his life but here she was, becoming yet another name on a list. Everyone left in the end. Everyone.

She still had some time before she had to leave but Harley couldn't stomach seeing Tommy so defeated, so angry for any longer than she had to. Without a word, she picked up her bags and made her way towards the door. At the last moment she turned to look back but he was still in their... his bedroom. It was what she knew was best for him but it didn't stop her heart from breaking as she closed the door and made her way down to her car.

Tommy watched from the window as she loaded her bags in the back, cast one last look up at the apartment and drove off. He felt something inside him pull away with her and the pain nearly sent him to his knees.

She was gone.

For a long while, he stayed rooted to the spot, afraid that the world around him would shatter if he made a step, but then the pain turned to anger. He stormed through to the kitchen with the intent of pouring a whiskey but there was none left, the last of it used in the aftermath of his latest nightmare. He remembered how she had held him and he had started to believe that maybe it was all real, maybe she would be the one to break the curse - but that was too much pressure to put on a person.

The apartment was too quiet without her. He had always been able to hear her humming or singing to herself, making dinner or reading a book. Now there was just an echoing emptiness and he didn't know how to fix it. He couldn't stop her from leaving and she didn't want him to follow. She deserved to have a fresh start, to move on from the death of her mother, see her friends and begin again.

He sat at the table with an empty bottle of whiskey instead an empty apartment. They weren't the same four walls he had always known yet somehow the space between had never changed. It never would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 11 July 2017. The quote is from Life and Death and Knowledge by Gabriél Gadfly.


	18. the door to my heart

how do i explain the door to my heart

only swings into hell

of course you ran from me

nobody can make a home

in a slaughterhouse

**\- 18 -**

* * *

"Champion!"

Colt grabbed his arm and lifted it into the sky like they were surrounded by a crowd rather a couple of guys getting their last workout in before night fell. Not for the first time that day, Tommy had to restrain himself from knocking his manager out cold. Adrenaline had flooded his system and he could smell the blood on his knuckles.

"You've found your fire again, Tom! Back to the beast I saw in the ring on the fated first day," Colt chuckled, looking happier than he had done in months. He always got like that when he predicted the money coming in. Tommy just grunted and pulled away, heading to the shower stalls without another word.

He washed quickly and threw his clothes back on like he was being timed. If he stayed still for too long, he would start to think and then he would start to drink. Going back to his old life had been hard to say the least, so he had thrown himself into the one thing he knew would get him through it: rage. Fights had been few and far between what with his shoulder and Harley had been around but now he was doing as many as he could, stacking them up back to back. The cash was flowing in but more than that, he didn't have to think about anything other than his fists. When he wasn't training, he was performing, the sound of a full audience chanting drowning out her voice that he kept waiting to hear.

But, despite all that, he still had to return to the empty apartment at the end of the day. The smell of her perfume was already fading, the space where her things used to be gathering dust. When he woke up in the middle of the night after having a nightmare, he would reach out to her side of the bed, each time having to remember again that she wasn't there anymore, and he would feel the panic rising. Harley had helped by giving him a rare sense of safety that he hadn't felt for years, and now it was gone. His demons seemed meaner somehow, the ghosts colder in her shadow.

Still, every morning he would get out of bed, eat some protein and go to the gym. The reverberation of his punches against a bag or a face, always soothed his nerves. Especially when Colt was dancing around like an idiot, cheeks rosy with jubilation.

"Tommy, my man! I am the best damn manager in the whole fuckin' world because, guess what, I got you a tryout with Troy!" The way he said the name with some kind of reverence told Tommy he should know what he was talking about but he didn't pay much attention these days.

"Troy?" he grunted. Colt sighed, exasperated.

"Yes,  _Troy!_ It's like a… sequel to Sparta. Same organisers as before but bigger space, bigger fights, bigger sponsors and, most importantly, a bigger pay out. Rumour is they're doublin', man, can you imagine? That would set you up for  _life._ Think of all the media attention we would get!" Colt slapped him on the back, over the moon. Tommy just shrugged.

"Sure, whatever. When is it?" Not put off by Tommy's lack of enthusiasm, Colt nudged the new receptionist - with Tommy spending so much time on fights, they'd put some young kid on the desk. He didn't like to think about it because it meant thinking about when Harley had walked through the door, and, well, we all know how that ended - who gave him the gym calendar.

"Next month. You're gonna have to commit to this, Tommy, give it everything you've got. Troy is smarter and meaner than Sparta, so you're gonna have to be the smartest and the meanest. Think you can do it?"

Preparing for a trial like Troy was just what he needed to keep his mind on better things. Focus everything into his fists, blind to all else. It had worked before, it would work again.

"Sure, I'm up for that." Colt nearly whooped in delight, fist pumping the air before darting off to his office, muttering about sponsorships and interviews. Tommy just shook his head and began to wrap his hands, the ritual of the moment enough to let him switch off. Here he was again, he thought. Here he was again.

* * *

It hadn't stopped raining since she had arrived, which was comforting in a way. It was easier to wallow when it was raining.

The first few weeks of being back had been a whirlwind of administration, procedures and signing documents. It had been tiring but Harley had appreciated the lack of time to think about anything except the next thing to do. Except now there wasn't anything left on her list and she found herself at a standstill, feeling lost in the one place she knew better than anywhere. She had hoped that being back in her old haunts would be reassuring but they just seemed old now, worn and run down. They had lost their energy - or, maybe she had. Either way, she avoided them, preferring to stay in the house instead.

She couldn't bring herself to call it home, not yet. The apartment was home.  _Tommy_ was home. The off white place she had lived in for most of her life was just a shell now. Her father was nowhere to be seen and her mother occupied an urn that had been a nightmare to get through security but now sat on the mantelpiece where a broken clock used to be.

A few friends had dropped by when they got wind that she had returned, demanding recitals of her time there, each one more painful than the last. She had kept Tommy out of it but she couldn't dodge the hard truth of her mother, no matter how many details she skipped over. When her best friend had dragged her into a painfully tight hug, Harley had finally let herself cry though she didn't mention that half her tears were for a grumpy ex-Marine who she dreamed of every night.

"Girl, you look exhausted," Holly said, her shrewd stare making Harley squirm. She had known the mouthy redhead since they were kids having grown up in the same street, and normally she would trust her with her deepest, darkest secrets but Tommy wasn't something she wanted to share with anyone.

"I feel it," Harley said instead, looking away. "I think I need to rest." Holly watched her for a beat longer before giving up with a sigh.

"Good idea. You know where to find me if you need me." They hugged again and Harley took a moment to appreciate that at least she had someone to turn to if she wanted. She hoped Tommy felt that he had the same, that he would reach out to Brendan, hell even Colt if he wanted to. The idea of him being alone in that little apartment saddened her.

Still, sleep was a good idea so she went up to her old bedroom and fell face first onto the bed. The sheets smelled dusty - they were the same ones that had been there since she left - but before she could even muster the inclination to do anything about it, she was out.

The next day, she busied herself with tidying up the house to get it back to a semi-decent state. It appeared that her father hadn't been back to disturb the dust as all his things were still gone which she hoped would be a permanent thing. He would have found out by now that his wife was deceased from all the paperwork she had filed, but she hadn't heard anything from him but she took to be a good thing. The last thing she needed was him crawling his way back into her life when she had  _cleaning_ to do.

The fridge was stocked, the trash had been taken out, the electricity meter was topped up. It was getting easier to think of the house as home and when more people dropped by, she was prepared, able to reel off easy answers and navigate the potholes that Tommy's absence left in her story. She would even crack jokes and when Holly took her out for lunch one day, she had lost that suspicious glint in her eye. The old air of London settled back in her lungs and she let herself be lost in the familiarity.

The dreams didn't stop but she didn't want them to. Even halfway around the world he kept the nightmares at bay and she felt a little less alone when she turned the lights off at night, the memory of him keeping her company. It was a pale comparison but she would accept the crumbs where she could, still believing that she had done the right thing. The pain she felt without him was a worthy sacrifice to the life he was now free to lead and eventually, the weight of missing him became just another thing she had to learn to live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 11 July 2017. The quote is written by Raquel Isabelle de Alderete, also known as r.i.d. or inkskinned.


	19. the tragedy of living

all the hardest, coldest people you meet

were once as soft as water

and that's the tragedy of living

**\- 19 -**

* * *

With the Troy tryouts just around the corner, Tommy spent every moment of daylight training for it. If he wasn't at the gym pounding the bags or in the ring, he was running around the block or lifting tires by the railroad. He didn't have a trainer dedicated to him, only the guys that Colt had brought in to look after the team, but he was okay with that. It meant that he had a reason to push himself, to keep his mind only on the task at hand. There was no chance of a pretty dark haired woman slipping into his thoughts when he had the biggest fight of his life on the horizon.

Colt was loving his commitment even though he knew where the fire was coming from. Still, from suffering comes victory, he would tell himself as he watched Tommy decimate each of his opponents during practice. He had a list of sponsors as long as his arm calling him every day and he could practically hear the green coming in. He took care to only speak to the ones that he thought Tommy could handle - or who could handle Tommy - just relieved that this time around he was open to sponsors at all. Interviews though were a different story: his fighter didn't want anyone asking questions about his personal life which Colt respected. It was still miles more than he had been given last time.

The prize had been confirmed at ten million dollars. Tommy had seen Colt's knees go weak at the prospect of getting even a cut of that sort of money. It was a huge payout but Tommy just cared about the fights. If he got money at the end of it, that was just a bonus. He would take what he needed to get by and give the rest to people who actually needed it.

With winter rolling in and the days getting shorter, it would be dark by the time Tommy would get back to the apartment. He would throw his gear down in the same place and go find something to eat. Once he had eaten, he would shower and go to bed. Some nights he slept, some nights he didn't. He had learned to stop counting because he was alone either way.

One morning, just as he was about to leave, Brendan called him. Tommy went to hit ignore but then hesitated. He was a man of solitude but for just a moment he felt like a kid again, wanting to hear his brother's voice because then everything would be okay.

"Hello?"

"Hey, brother. Hope I didn't wake you, I'm just heading to work. I wanted to catch up, see how you were doing?" Trust Brendan to keep to his promise, to look out for him even now. He kept expecting his brother to disappear again but then he would remember that he had been the one to leave, not the other way around.

"I was about to leave for the gym. I'm tryin' out for Troy in two weeks," he added, not sure how Brendan would take the news but then he had his brother give a whoop of excitement.

"I was hopin' you would! You're gonna smash it, Tom, I know you will! I'll be there, rootin' for you the whole way!" Tommy believed him and that spoke volumes of how far they'd come. To know that after everything, he would have someone in the crowd cheering him on, it meant more than he could probably ever tell Brendan.

"Thanks, man," he said, throwing some bottled water into his bag.

"What does Harley think about the whole thing? She worried? I know Tess freaked  _out_ when she found out about Sparta."

Tommy came to a standstill, her name tolling like a bell in his ear. He hadn't told Brendan because he didn't know how to get the words out and that hadn't changed. Colt had pieced it together himself and no one else at the gym had said anything, not even Mad Dog.

"I don't know, she's… she's not here." He rubbed a hand over his eyes, hating this shit.

"What do you mean?"

"She left, went back home and she's not, er, she's not coming back." He was trying to convince himself more than Brendan who paused, the static in the line sounding too loud.

"Where's home?" he asked. Not here anymore, Tommy thought.

"London." Brendan sucked a breath in between his teeth and Tommy imagined his expression. "Yeah, so." He shrugged to himself and carried on putting his things in his bag, throwing it over his shoulder unceremoniously.

"Tommy, I don't know what to say. I thought it was serious between you two?"

This was exactly why Tommy hadn't wanted to say anything to anyone, because saying that everyone leaves is the kinda shit that makes people feel they have to argue and why bother when it was true.

"Yeah, well." Brendan sighed, sensing that was all he was going to get out of his brother over the phone.

"Okay, man. Hey, how about you come over this weekend, just you and me? We can grab some beers or whatever." It was an obvious play and Tommy's instinct was to say no. He wasn't the guy that kicked back and  _talked_ but this was his brother. He'd never thought he'd have the opportunity to grab a beer with Brendan but here it was.

"Er, sure."

"Great! I'll drop you a text later, alright, man?" They said goodbye and Tommy forced himself to leave the thoughts of his brother, of  _her_ behind in the apartment. If his punches were any harsher that day, no one said a thing.

It turned out to be the day for family talks because when he pulled up in the lot at the end of the day, Paddy was stood outside the apartment building. When he saw Tommy get out the car, he pulled off his cap and began to wring it nervously in his hands. His expression was wary but Tommy didn't have the energy for a fight, so he just nodded towards the door with his head and they walked up together in silence.

"Coffee?" he asked as Paddy took a seat on the sofa.

"Yeah, son, thanks." His voice shook from age and it was so different to the man who had screamed at him as a child. Time really had taken its toll on Patrick Conlon. He handed him a steaming cup and sat back on one of the armchairs, his body aching from his workout.

"What you doing here, Pop?" Tommy sounded as weary as he felt which he supposed was a good thing if Paddy had come here ready to pick a fight.

"I heard 'bout you an' that girl," Paddy said, looking anxious. Tommy raised an eyebrow, knowing that he hadn't heard it from Brendan. "Your manager told me," he explained at Tommy's look. "I came by the gym to see you as you hadn't been over in a while, and that man told me 'bout the girl and your tryout for that new event, er, Troy, is it?" Tommy nodded, irritated but not surprised at Colt's big mouth.

"Yeah, not long now," he murmured, scratching at his face. The atmosphere was uncomfortable but he let his father say his bit, seeing how he'd made the effort to track him down. "What you come here for, Pop, eh?" Paddy nodded, fidgeting in his seat.

"I wanted to see how you were… the last time we, er, spoke, you told me you loved that girl. What happened, Tommy?"

Here we go again. What was it with everyone wanting to know all the details about his life. They didn't care before, Tommy thought caustically. But then he sighed. That wasn't fair. Goddammit. It was easier being the angry dick to everyone rather than trying to be rational and understanding. He'd never talked so much in his life.

"She had t'go back to London an' she didn't," he coughed, uncomfortable, "she didn't want me t'go with her."

"Why not? Did somethin' happen?" There was something odd in his tone and when Tommy studied his expression, he knew what it was. There was an expectation there, like when someone was ready to hear the worst. The rage that he had thought he was too tired to feel flared and he leant forward, each word grating.

"Nothin' 'happened', Pop, I ain't like  _you._ " Even the  _suggestion_ that he would ever do anything to hurt Harley made him feel sick. Paddy flinched and dropped his gaze, ashamed. Tommy wanted to tell him to get the hell out but he was too angry to form the words.

"No, Tommy, you're not," Paddy said after a moment. He sounded sad, seeming to wilt under Tommy's stare. "You never were like me, son, neither was Brendan. I've always been grateful for that. Of course nothin' happened." This calmed Tommy down enough that he could take a breath, the anger dissipating in a rush, leaving him feeling more tired than before.

"She just… had her own life to lead," he finished and Paddy shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," he grumbled, and Tommy shrugged.

"Yeah. Me too."

There was a long silence but all things considering, it was one of the more pleasant ones between them. Tommy rested his head back and stared at the ceiling while Paddy stared down at this hands, two generations of a broken family, lost.

"I'm sorry." Tommy glanced at his father whose hands still twisted and turned his hat. "I'm sorry for bein' a shit father, for forcin' you an' your Ma to run away. I'm sorry that I wasn't there when she died, or when everythin' happened with the Marines. I'm - I'm just  _sorry,"_ and then he was crying, pressing the cap to his face, bent over as he wept.

It was surreal at first and Tommy just stared in shock, watching how the man's shoulders shook up and down, the way his cries croaked in his throat. The last time he had seen Paddy cry was at the hotel but he'd been steaming, drunkenly reciting literature until he was red in the face. He had been able to deal with that Pop but now, this sober shell of a man? It was harrowing.

Tommy got off the chair and pulled his dad up from the sofa, wrapping his arms around him. Paddy clutched to him, crying into his shoulder with an intensity that almost disturbed Tommy. Where had this come from?

"Pop, it's alright, it's alright," he soothed, the words sounding wrong in his voice. He rubbed Paddy's back a little and then straightened him out, holding him at shoulder length. "You're sorry, I know. I hear ya." He couldn't bring himself to say the words  _I forgive you_ because he wasn't sure he did. But he didn't doubt now that Paddy really was sorry and even if that didn't do much to fix everything that had happened, it was something he had expected to hear from his Paddy Conlon. Baby steps.

Tommy encouraged Paddy to finish his coffee before he went, watching the older man throw it back like a shot. Old habits die hard, he guessed. Their goodbye was brief but not awkward, Paddy's spine a little less crooked as he left.

"What a fuckin' day," Tommy muttered but nevertheless, he slept well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten on 11 July 2017. The quote is from I Wrote This For You by Iain Thomas.


	20. every future i planted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaack! I have finally finished the rewrite of this story after nearly two years and here is a brand new chapter! Since it has been a while I recommend that you reread the story as I have changed some fundamental aspects of the plot and characterisation. If you don't want to read the whole thing then maybe skip back one or two as those are the ones that have changed the most and will give more context to this chapter. Thanks for your patience and please let me know what you think (if there even is any of you left!).

i feel like every future i planted

was in the row of your palms

how am i supposed to move on

**\- 20 -**

* * *

Harley had mastered the art of pretending to be okay and she was pretty impressed with herself considering she held in her hand all the ingredients required to have a fucking disaster. All the money she earned from the job she'd managed to secure at the cafe down the road went straight to paying the mortgage for the family sized home she now occupied alone. The fridge was more often than not stocked with wine and bread instead of any actual decent food, the sofa had broken so she would sit on the floor to watch television, and she kept falling into the holes in her life made by the people she had lost along the way, but no one  _knew_ that, so she was doing pretty well, she thought. She had everyone fooled.

Well, except for one. That damn redhead and those cunning eyes, they were going to be the death of her one of these days. They were sat eating McDonalds in her kitchen, a half bottle of wine between the two of them.

"You're lying to me, I can tell," Holly said for the probably the sixth time the last hour as she shoved some fries into her mouth. Harley just rolled her eyes and finished her burger, hoping having her mouth full would mean that she wouldn't have to respond but Holly wasn't one for giving up.

"You are!" she insisted, brandishing a pickle like a sword. "You lost something out there."

"Yeah, my mum," Harley retorted but Holly just waved her words away, all the tact of a tank.

"No, not that. Something else. You've got the look of regret about you."  _Damn her._ "Come on, just tell me, I'm your best friend. I won't judge."

"It's, it's nothing," Harley sighed and Holly lit up like a christmas tree, victorious.

"Ha! I knew it, something  _did_ happen and it's obviously  _something_ or you wouldn't be moping so much."

"I'm not moping!"

God, she really shouldn't have said anything, the girl was like a dog with a bone, she was never going to let this go now. In all honesty, she knew she could tell Holly the truth - hell, she would probably feel better for it. But she felt that if she admitted to someone else how much she loved Tommy, how much it was hurting to have to live her life without him… well then she would have admit it to herself, and that would make it too real.

"Yes, you are. You're hurting babe, I can see it. Just tell me, I'm here for you!"

It all came out in a rush, words and stories tumbling together onto the table for Holly to see. She told her everything, left nothing out. Holly sat wide eyed but silent as she was walked down the path of those three months of Harley's life, both the beauty and the tragedy. From her mother's suicide to her own hospital trip, the meeting with Tommy's father, and then his brother, Harley left no stone unturned, no secret untold. It was like she couldn't stop until finally, painfully, she was done.

There was a deep gulf of silence as the pair of them digested what had just been said, but then Holly reached out and grabbed Harley's hand. Her bright blue eyes were searching, reading the nuances in Harley's face.

"Harley, for the love of all that is holy, why did you tell him to stay?"

It was the same question that had spun around her head ever since she had gotten back. No matter how many times she reassured herself, she always find her own answer wanting.

"He was doing so well, Hols, he was patching things up with his dad, he was getting somewhere at the gym! You should have seen him when I first met him, he was so  _angry,_ so hopeless - but by the end he was lighter, brighter, y'know? He deserved to have that life." Holly stared at her like she was a fool, her look almost pitying.

"Harley, babe… did you ever think that maybe he was doing so much better because of  _you?"_ Holly's look was pointed but Harley just scoffed and took her hand back.

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Harley, honey, I love you, but you can be such an idiot sometimes!" Harley looked affronted but Holly didn't give her time to argue. "When you first met him, he wasn't doing so well, right? And who could blame him? I'd practically be catatonic if I'd had to go through half of what he did, but it seems to me like he wasn't looking to change - but then you come along! You helped him, you  _loved_ him, Harley, and it made him better. He was happy because of  _you_ \- and you just left him!"

Harley stared at her friend, stricken. It had never even crossed her mind that their relationship and Tommy's wellbeing had any correlation… but then she thought about the ways that Tommy had impacted her life. He had been there the whole way after her mother's death and she knew without a doubt that the grief would have swallowed her whole if Tommy hadn't been there to keep her head above water. The way he made her feel reflected on the choices she made in her own life, the strength he would give her just by being there transferring over even into London now.

Could she really have meant that much to him?

"You say that you left him behind so that he could live a good life but you're the reason he wanted that life. Then you just… left him."

"God, stick the knife in, Holly," Harley muttered but she knew her friend was right.  _Fuck!_ She had thought she was making the right decision for Tommy but she had only succeeded in making them both miserable.

It all became too much and she put her face in her hands, feeling her tears fall between her fingers. She could feel a sob building so she gritted her teeth against the drowning sensation that was overwhelming her.

"I've really fucked it up, haven't I?" Holly quickly moved to hug her from the side, rubbing her arm.

"You can still fix it! I bet he's waiting for you."

"I bet he hates me!" she cried, no longer able to hold back her sobs. "I bet he fucking  _hates_ me!" Holly laughed at her dramatics, sitting up.

"Don't be such a drama queen, of course he doesn't hate you. He's probably hurt, maybe a little bit pissed, but he won't hate you, Harley. You love each other! He'll get over it."

Harley wasn't so sure but she was damn well going to find out.

* * *

Here he was, drinking a better and sitting in his brother's lounge like they weren't broken people. There were children laughing in the next room, there were goddamn birds singing outside the window; he could almost pretend that nothing was missing, that he was whole.

Someone on the TV scored a goal and Brendan cheered. There was nothing forced here, Tommy thought. This home was built on a foundation of happy times, made by people who loved each other. Not for the first time, he wondered what his life would have been like if he had been raised in a house like this. Would the demons have ever learned his name?

Tess came by to bring them food and more beer, ruffling Brendan's hair as she walked by. His fingers laced against her hip and for just a second, they caught each other's eye and smiled. Tommy saw it and felt like he had been gutted hollow. Brendan saw his look and when Tess had gone, he turned down the television.

"Talk to me, brother," he prompted, looking every bit his age - but with wisdom, not misfortune. Tommy grumbled a little, scrubbing at his face. He hated talking but it was difficult keeping it in after learning how to let it out. Harley had taught him to talk and then had left. Who else was there left to talk to but Brendan?

"I don't know, man," he said, because he didn't. Brendan laughed a little and Tommy shot him a look.

"Sorry, it's just… you're so in love, aren't you?" He laughed again and Tommy groaned. "I never thought I'd see the day but I hoped, man, I really did. If anyone deserves to find love in this messed up world, it's you."

"We've hit this part of the day already, have we?" Tommy joked but Brendan dismissed his poor attempt to avoid the subject. He didn't have to pretend with Brendan, he'd been through it all: found himself a high school sweetheart, had two beautiful kids and a stable marriage even all these years later. In Tommy's eyes, he was the expert at love.  _Fuck it,_ he thought. Now wasn't the time for pride.

"She left me, Bren'. I thought we had somethin' but she just… left."

"Tommy, she legally had to leave, it wasn't like you kicked her out of the country." Then he winced, recalling the first time he'd met the woman but Tommy didn't seem to notice his poor choice of words. He was staring at the beer in his hands without seeing it. Brendan sighed. Tommy never got distracted: it really was serious.

"She told me she didn't want me to go after her," Tommy insisted, like he was trying to get Brendan to admit that there really was no future left for them, that it was over. Maybe if someone else said it first, he could accept it too. Except that he didn't want to.

"Did she say why?"

"She didn't have to. What did I have to offer her, huh? What life could I have given her?" Brendan was dismayed that his baby brother thought so little of himself. He didn't know where he would find someone better than the man who stayed by his mother's side, alone and underage, watching her die; the man who ripped the door off a tank to save a stranger; the man fought to get to the top of a championship just so he could donate the winnings to his best friend's widow; the man who invited a grieving girl into his home and cared for her unconditionally.

The man that forgave his brother for abandoning him as a kid.

"A  _great_ one," Brendan proclaimed, his gaze so intense Tommy struggled to meet it. "Brother, you  _love_ her. What better life could she ask for? I saw the way you two were together - she wanted a life with you, Tommy."

"Then why did she leave?" Tommy sounded so miserable that Brendan wasn't sure what to say, but then his beautiful sunshine daughters saved the day, like they always did.

"Uncle Tommy, why are you sad?" asked Emily from the doorway, Rosie at her side with a toy rabbit hanging from her arm. The innocence in a question so direct had Tommy reeling but Brendan just offered a knowing shrug. The genius of children.

"He's missing someone he loves," Brendan finally answered when Tommy didn't. The two girls exchanged sorrowful looks before bounding over, hopping up to sit either side of him. This was the first time he was interacting with his nieces directly and he couldn't believe how beautiful they both were, how… happy. This was how children were meant to be, bold and unafraid.

"Oh no!" exclaimed little Rosie, her bottom lip coming out. "That is very said."

"Where did she go?" Emily asked, the pair of them leaning against him without any inhibition. They weren't wary of their bear of an uncle, just pleased to have someone else to play with.

"The other side of the world," he replied, his arms automatically coming round to steady them as they clambered onto his knees. Brendan grinned: there was a look of wonder about his brother.

"Well, go get her!" Emily demanded, a little furrow in her brow. Brendan spread his arms wide, triumphant.

"You heard the woman. Go get her!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote for this chapter is by the amazing Raquel Isabelle de Alderete, also known as r.i.d. or inkskinned.


	21. be the moon

 

everyone wants to be the sun

to lighten up everyone's life

but why not be the moon

to brighten in the darkest hour

**\- 21 -**

* * *

This time, Harley didn't even bother packing anything more than a carry on bag, not wanting to waste time having to wait around collecting her luggage. The sense of urgency stormed like the ocean within her, refusing to abate. She cursed herself for ever thinking that she had the control over what Tommy should do with his life, acting like damn martyr to a cause that wasn't even real. She loved him! She loved him! If only he would forgive her, take her back and she would never leave him again.

"Here, I found something! Your mum was born over there, right?" called Holly from the kitchen where she was reading through all the immigration pages she could find. Harley had gotten her new application for a visa waiver approved which was all she cared about but Holly was thinking ahead. She didn't doubt that Tommy would take her back but Harley wasn't so sure - she just wanted to have her chance to tell him the truth.

"Yeah, she moved here when she was a teenager."

"Ooh, that's good! It says here you can apply for citizenship if you have a US citizen for a parent at the time of birth and they lived in US for at least five years!" Holly could hardly contain her excitement but Harley wasn't ready to give up her hopes yet. Just one thing at a time, she told herself.

"How about I first see if Tommy wants to see me again, then we can talk about citizenships or whatever." Holly tutted at her friend's lack of enthusiasm but kept researching.

Meanwhile, Harley was rooting around in her desk for the envelope of dollars she'd had leftover from her last trip and stuffed them into her purse. Her heart was pounding, her hands shaking but she refused to lose her nerve. Her love for that gruff man had knotted itself into every aspect of who she was, it wasn't something she could ignore any longer. In her arrogance, she had pushed him away but nothing could sever the bond they had, not even her own stupidity. At least, that's what she hoped for.

Maybe Tommy had moved on, maybe he was thankful that she had decided to leave. Perhaps he had realised in the space she had forced upon him that she was right, he did have the chance at a better life without her around. The very thought made her eyes well up so she quickly cast it away. There was no point thinking the worst until she had spoken to him, face to face. Until then, she would remain hopeful.

The doorbell made her jump but she heard Holly scrape back her chair, so she continued to charge around her room, grabbing socks and underwear, trying to find a clean pair of pyjamas.

"Have you booked your flight already?" Holly called up to her as she passed the stairs.

"Nah, I don't want to be put on hold for an hour. I'll just get on the next one I can when I get there," she replied before running into the bathroom to sweep whatever was on the shelf into arms so she could chuck it on the bed. Anything that counted as a liquid she did not have time for and discarded it straight away. The length of the flight was going to be hard enough without holding herself up at the gate because of  _perfume_.

"Hey, Harley? I don't think you're going to need to worry about that flight."

Harley rolled her eyes impatiently, hoping her friend hadn't 'helpfully' booked her onto a flight by accident. With her luck, she'd end up in a different state. With an agitated sigh, she hurried the stairs to see what Holly was going on about this time.

"What are you talking ab-"

Holly was stood in the front hall, her face lit up with pure excitement, and beside her was a man she had never expected to see under her roof.

"Tommy?"

* * *

It wasn't until the plane took off that Tommy had a moment to think about what he was doing, and he was glad for it. He'd been worried that he would talk himself out of it if given the chance so he had got his things, booked a flight and got on the plane as quickly as possible, with Brendan sending him encouraging texts along the way.

Now, with over eleven hours ahead of him, he could relax: he was on his way. The city below lit up like fireflies under the night sky, getting smaller and smaller until all he could see was grey and purple clouds. It would be morning in his time when he touched down but afternoon in London, so he knew he should get some sleep to avoid being jetlagged but his mind was racing.

He hadn't told Colt that he was leaving, knowing that the manager would have freaked out this close to the tryouts and that was time he didn't have to waste. He hadn't told his Pop either but he probably wouldn't even know he was gone, which he felt almost sad about. The only other person who knew he was leaving was his landlord who he had just texted in case he came round while he was away.

This kind of spontaneity wasn't something he was used to. Impulsive choices made because out of anger, sure, but not hopping on a plane to track down the woman he loved who had very clearly told him to not do that. Well, he supposed, she could tell him again to his face if that's how she really felt - which, he admitted, was a possibility. He could be flying halfway around the world just to get rejected  _again_  but he had to try. He owed it to them and that time they had spent together to at least  _try_.

Brendan had given him something else on his way out but Tommy wasn't so sure. There was being spontaneous and there was being unrealistic. He didn't want Harley to feel pressured or guilted into anything, he just had to know if there was a chance that they could make this work. They could figure out the specifics later.

With his thoughts in the clouds, the journey went by quicker than expected and before he knew it, they were touching down. The clouds were grey but the sun was shining and as the Captain welcomed the passengers to London, it hit him that he was really here. Now he just had to find her house.

Luckily, Harley had left copies of her travel documents from her first flight back at the apartment which included her home address. Ignoring how damn creepy he felt, he had searched for her house on Google Maps so he knew what it looked like and then had tucked the paper into his wallet. Now, he showed it to the taxi driver at the airport who nodded and told him to climb in. It took about an hour to reach her street and as he paid the driver, the man helpfully pointed at the house he wanted.

"Good luck, mate," he said with a wink and drove off, leaving Tommy bemused, and as he stare up at the front door, a little scared. He wasn't sure how long he stayed stuck in the spot until he heard his niece's voice in his head.

_Well, go get her!_

His hands shook a little from the adrenaline so after he had rung the bell, he stuffed them into his jean pockets. His reflection was staring back at him through the opaque glass panelling and he wondered whether he should have freshened up first but then the door opened, revealing a tall redhead with vivid blue eyes.

"Hi there," she greeted, looking him up and down expectantly.

"Hey, er, does Harley Sinclair live here?" He prayed she would say yes because otherwise he would start having to go to every door like a madman or, you know, a salesman. For a very awkward minute, the woman just stared at him with wide eyes, then she gawked.

"Oh my God, you're him aren't you? You're Tommy?" she exclaimed, her voice low. Before he could respond she grabbed his onto his jacket and dragged him unceremoniously into the hallway. His first reflex was to resist but the fact that she knew him was a good sign and she seemed more excited than dangerous.

"Yeah, I'm-" he started but the redhead shushed him, sneaking a look over her shoulder towards some stairs. His heart began to race - was she here?

"I can't believe you're here, this is so crazy! I knew it though, I knew it!" Tommy was half amused, half wary of the woman's enthusiasm. With far too much familiarity, she threw her arms around his shoulders, squealing a little in his ear. Tommy tensed but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm Holly by the way, her best friend. The moment she told me about you, I told her she had to go see you - but here you are!" Okay, he liked this girl no matter how overly tactile she was.

"Is she here?" he asked, desperate to see her. Instead of replying, Holly turned to yell up the stairs. Tommy heard movement and then footsteps on the stairs. He had goosebumps, everything inside of him vibrating as he waited to see her, and -

There she was. The afternoon sun from the skylight haloed her from behind, her wild hair spilling down her shoulders, green eyes downcast as she hurried down the steps. He saw Holly turn to him out of the corner of his eye with a wide grin but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the woman he loved, descending like a dream made manifest.

When she saw him, she stopped in her tracks. He couldn't help but smile as she said his name, the green of her eyes more beautiful than he remembered.

"Hey, baby," he said, and then she was there in his arms, shivering like a leaf as she buried her face into his neck. He noticed Holly slip quietly into the kitchen to give them some space and he mouthed thank you as she left.

"You're here," Harley whispered into his chest and Tommy gently pulled her back so that he could look at her, his thumb wiping at her tears.

"Yeah, I'm here." She looked dazed almost, like she didn't quite believe what was happening.

"But… why?" Tommy laughed and was surprised at himself.

"Why else? I love you, baby. I know you told me you didn't want me to come with you but-" He was abruptly cut off when Harley slapped her hand over his mouth, something vulnerable in the seagreen of her eyes, the curve of her lips.

"I was coming back to you, I was just about to leave! Jesus, Tommy, I wish I could take that back, fuck, I wish I had never said that. I thought that by letting you go you would be free to live this…" she gestured wildly with her hand, "happy life. Everything was going so well for you, I didn't want to ruin it."

He couldn't help it: he laughed again. The ridiculousness of it all, of them. Trust them to be given something so precious, so  _good_ , and be so damn terrified of it. In the midst of their grief they had found happiness - and ran from it.

"I had a happy life because of you, ya silly woman," Tommy scolded and Harley smiled for the first time, still a bit teary.

"I had a happy life because of you, too," she whispered, seeming very young in that moment. She was scared, it was easy for him to see and he was determined to prove that there was nothing for them to be scared of, not when they were together.

It was then that he remembered Brendan's last minute addition, that little glint in his eye as he'd slid it in the Tommy's coat pocket. Tommy had thought that the timing was wrong, had been afraid of pushing her away further but now, holding her in his arms, damn near screaming with joy, he knew that it was now or never. So, without further ado, he slid out the velvet box and got down on one knee.

"Oh my God," Harley murmured, and he heard Holly swear from the kitchen where she was peering out from around the corner. There was a million reasons whirling around his head why this was the wrong thing to do but then he saw the way she lit up like the northern star and decided they didn't matter.

"Harley Sinclair, will you do the honour of being my wife?"

Harley couldn't believe it. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming because that's what it felt like. Tommy, turning up on her door to propose to her  _after_  she told him to not come after her? This was the soppy sort of shit she would imagine as she lay in bed, cursing her ability to fuck up every good thing that came her way.

"Really?" she asked before she even knew the words were coming out. She cringed but Tommy just laughed - my god, she had never heard him laugh so much or seen him so jovial - unphased by her response.

"Yes, baby, really."

"But you're not worried that it's too soon? We've only known each other for three months!" He shrugged and she had to admit, she was liking this side to him.

"It's enough. We've been through hell t'gether, baby. What more do we need to do to prove that we're meant to be together?"

What more, indeed. When it felt like her world had collapsed, Tommy had been the one to help her put it back together again. He had given her his secrets to safeguard and she had walked him through his darkest of nights. Their time apart had been agonising, the ghost pain of something she had thought forever lost, but here he was, kneeling before her like she was the sun and the moon and all the stars, wanting her to share his life. There was good in this world, she thought, and you had to hold on to it.

"Yes!" she cried and and offered him her hand. The ring was beautiful, a warm gold leaf band with a large inset diamond that had her heart racing, and it slid on like it had been made for her. Harley jumped into Tommy's arms as he came to a stand, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissed him with all the desire, joy and devotion she felt for the man. Her man. Her  _fiancé_.

"Oh, this is so romantic!" Holly crowed from the doorway, clapping her hands together as the engaged couple kissed and laughed and cried together.

"This is crazy, right?" Harley said in his ear, sounding breathless. Tommy spun her around and kissed her again.

"The craziest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote for this chapter is by... unknown. I couldn't find the original author so please let me know if you know who it is! 
> 
> Next chapter is the penultimate on and it's a pretty big one. Please let me know what you think of this one!


	22. if this isn't a kingdom

 

i made this place for you

a place for you to love me

if this isn't a kingdom

then i don't know what is

**\- 22 -**

* * *

Before marriage comes war, they say. They being Colt, and he didn't really say it so much as screamed it. Tommy appreciated the sentiment nevertheless. Once his manager had calmed down enough for Tommy to assure him that he wasn't planning on dropping out of the tournament, Colt managed to actually congratulate him on his engagement.

He was  _engaged._ It still didn't sound real to him, like he was caught in a nightmare that started off like a dream. Each morning he would rush to check that Harley was still there at his side, afraid that one day he would see that he had never gone to her, that she had never said yes. But she had. She had.

The pair of them had been inseparable in the days after the proposal, hiding out in Harley's childhood bedroom, huddled on her tiny single bed, making out like teenagers, fucking like convicts. They weren't even entirely sure how many days had passed until Tommy turned on his phone to see a load of texts, mostly from Colt panicking that he hadn't turned up at the gym for training, but some were from Brendan demanding to be told the outcome of his impromptu visit across the pond.

It was time to face the world, so they eventually got out of bed and started making calls. Harley really only had her boss at the cafe to tell, trusting Holly and her big mouth would take care of their circle of friends, while Tommy told Brendan, Pop and Colt, each of them with their own vastly different reaction.

Brendan was unabashedly ecstatic, yelling down the phone so loud Tommy had to hold it away until he'd run out of steam. He took a decent chunk of the credit for the engagement since he had been the one to slide their grandmother's ring into the luggage, which Tommy supposed was fairly due. He could hear Tess in the background laughing so hard at her husband's childlike glee that she couldn't get a word out.

Paddy was understandably wary. He'd only meet the woman once and wasn't sure that Tommy could really be so confident in knowing a person in such a short space of time, but he let himself be reassured by Tommy telling him that he was, for the first time since he could remember, happy. "That's all that matters, son."

Colt was, well, Colt. The only thing he cared about was whether Tommy was going to get his ass back to country in time for the Troy tryouts. Normally his shitty attitude would have Tommy wound up but this time he just laughed, not even his cranky manager breaking through his good mood. He assured Colt that he would be back in plenty of time for the tryout, that he was planning on seeing the tournament through to whatever end.

He had spoken about this with Harley before his call, not wanting to make any assumptions. He had broached the subject with an expectation she would want him to miss the tryout. When they'd been together in Pittsburgh, she had only seen him in working out at the gym as he hadn't done many professional fights while his shoulder fully healed, so he wasn't sure how she would take to the idea of seeing him in the ring for real. Harley's response had surprised him and he remembered to never assume her opinion again.

"Why wouldn't I be okay with you doing Troy? You love fighting, I don't have to have seen it to know it. Anyway, look at you!" she tried to wrap her hand around his bicep and failed. "You can't let all this go to waste. You're like a beast!" Tommy had laughed, rolling them over so that he was gazing down at her, the softness of her curves protected by the size and strength of him. He would never let anyone hurt her, he promised in his mind. "Plus, that cash prize will come in handy for the wedding dress I've got my eye on… "

"Oh, I see how it is," he retorted, making her snicker. "You're only with me for the money." Harley did her best to shrug with him hovering above her, her expression one of pure innocence before it tumbled into a grin. He bent down to ensnare her mouth with a long, lazy kiss and she almost purred into it, encased as she was. It was precisely where she wanted to be.

"You're too skinny," Tommy mumbled against her mouth, making her pull away with an eye roll.

"Way to ruin the moment," she muttered but he ignored her. "I told you, all my money has been going to the ridiculous mortgage my parents had been paying, I didn't have a lot left to play with in the fridge department. Anyway, I was this size when I came to Pittsburgh in the first place - it was  _you_ who fattened me up with all those breakfasts you made."

"Yeah, 'cause you were too skinny." When she went to retort, he just stole another kiss, his eyes mischievous when she frowned. "I'll just have to make you breakfast more often."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with that," Harley said with a smile, and Tommy wondered why he felt like he had lost that one. "In the meantime, you'll just have to make do with what I've got." Without hesitation, Tommy began to massage her breast, his tongue darting across her nipple, making her shiver.

"I'm sure I'll manage," he said as he dropped kisses along her collarbone.

"Oh, what a hero." Her tongue was sharp and her eyes sparked with a wicked look as she wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back with a moan as he pushed inside her, and together they were lost in the madness they inspired.

They returned the following day to Pittsburgh. Harley marvelled at the way this new city felt more like going home than London had, but she supposed that had more to do with the man at her side. She saw the way people glanced at him, the way they hurried to get of his way. It didn't surprise her, he was like a bear in man's clothing and with those granite eyes and hard jaw, he had the look of danger about him. She barely stopped grinning the whole way back to the apartment.

The tryouts were like auditions, Tommy explained to Harley while he got his gear together, so it wasn't really the place to bring people with him. His tone had been apologetic, so she had just leapt at him without warning, knowing he would catch her, and kissed him as hard as she could muster. His lips were like a drug to her, leaving her overcome with addiction each time.

"Go win for me," she'd whispered after and there was fire in his eyes. He would dare down the gates of hell for this woman, he could sure as hell win a tryout; and he did.

The Friday before the tournament began, Brendan and Tess invited the couple round for celebratory drinks. Tommy had told Harley about his conversations with his brother while she'd been away and she was so glad they were facing up to the choices they had made and those that had been made for them. Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting, she'd said to him, it just means moving forward instead of looking back. They accepted the invitation gracefully, determined to step outside of the shadow their last meeting had cast.

If Tommy had thought his sister-in-law would show them her back, he was much mistaken. As soon as they were through the door, she had taken Harley's hands within her own, her face open and earnest.

"I'm sorry for being such a massive bitch," she'd said without censure and Harley had laughed a little before pulling the woman in for a hug.

"It came from a good place," Harley said as they pulled apart, smiling. Their men had watched on, bemused but relieved.

"That was easy," Brendan teased and the women shrugged, sharing knowing looks. Tess had weathered the absence in her husband's life a lot longer than Harley did but they both knew the shape of it well.

"All things are, if you let 'em," Tess had replied before whisking the future bride off into their kitchen to show her the wine selection, the first of many Conlon Wife stories already on her tongue, leaving the brothers behind.

There was a long stretch of silence as they listened to the sound of laughter and storytelling, the quiet comfortable. Tommy turned to Brendan and nodded as if answering a question that had gone unsaid.

"You made the right choice, Bren'," he said. "I can see that now."

Brendan's eyes glossed and he rubbed them, taking a shaky breath. Tommy hadn't quite realised how much those words would mean to him and was all the more glad for him saying them. Unable to formulate the right thing to say in response, Brendan embraced his baby brother, clapping him on the back. Tommy held and let himself be held, feeling both like the beaten kid and the healing man.

From the kitchen, Harley and Tess watched with soft, unsurprised smiles. It felt as if a breath that had been held for a lifetime had finally been released, and the air was so much sweeter on the other side. "Success," Tess whispered in her hair and Harley hid a laugh, the pair of them moving away to fill their glasses, the look in their eye smacking of a hard won victory.

Later on, the four of them raised champagne flutes in the dining room with the sound of the newscasters discussing the upcoming tournament in the background.

"Here's to family and forgiveness," said Brendan, "and all the things in between."

"Here's to love and war," said Tommy, "and all the things in between."

"We made it, guys," Harley finished, and they brought their glasses together with a clink.

* * *

The Troy championship was a hurricane that raged through their lives, throwing everything into the air, refusing to let them settle.

Though she wasn't planning on staying for the ninety days this time, just a couple of weeks, Harley had expected to utilise the time she had in Pittsburgh to research into how she would get her green card, how she would sell the house back home, and just exactly what she would do once she had moved over. She had known straight away that it was better for her to move than Tommy because he had a whole life set up in Pittsburgh whereas she had only the frayed remnants of one back in London. It was easier for her friends to travel to see her than it was to expect Paddy or Brendan's family to travel. So, having even a small handful of weeks was the perfect time to get all the preparation in check, or so she had assumed based on only a minor interest in Troy on her part. Turns out she greatly underestimated just how much she of a MMA fan she was deep down.

Together with Brendan, she went to every one of Tommy's matches, often with Tess or even Paddy tagging along. There was little room for any awkwardness to settle in between the two generations of Conlons as most of the time was spent on their feet and yelling. Harley had expected the anxiety of watching Tommy fight but she hadn't expected the exhilaration she would feel at seeing Tommy being crowned victor after victor after victor until it all came down to one last fight.

"He's going to win it," Tess said very matter of fact from where she stood at the stove. Tommy was finishing up doing the latest rounds of interviews, having already done a photoshoot in the morning for one of his sponsors. She'd tried not to but Harley had to laugh at the petulant way Tommy would deal with the events Colt set up, still hating all the attention even this time around. Nevertheless, Harley would send him off with a kiss and he would get the job done with as little fuss as possible.

Meanwhile, Harley was spending a lot of time around Brendan and Tess's house as the stadium was nearer their place in Philly, and the nearly five hour drive had done her in the first time round. The organisers had put up the contestants in their own hotel but it was frowned upon for them to have guests - the reporters that had tented up outside loved it - so Tess had insisted for her to stay with them rather than book another hotel or do the drive for each match. At first she had been worried about intruding but they had all quickly gotten into a routine, plus the two girls loved having yet  _another_ playmate, especially one who had endless patience when it came to tea parties and watching Disney Channel repeats.

"Don't jinx it!" Brendan scolded, looking aghast. Harley laughed as she fetched the dinner plates and began to set the table. The girls were washing up and there was just one last guest they were expecting before Tommy arrived.

The doorbell rang and everyone froze, look of doubt crossing their faces, but then Emily was running to the door yelling "Grandpa!", Rosie close behind. Brendan shook himself free of reeling thoughts and rushed to get there before his girls, opening the door to reveal Paddy, his cap in his hand.

"Hi, Pop," Brendan greeted, trying to invoke as much normality into his tone as possible. Paddy nodded and walked in, giving his coat to his son to hang up. Harley watched from the kitchen as he peered around the house and she was reminded of when she first saw it, the way it overwhelmed her, made her feel very small. Her heart softened against the old man at the memory.

"Grandpa! Grandpa!" chirped Emily, jumping with her arms outstretched. Paddy hesitated, but his look of approval to Brendan was received with a nod so he crouched down and let the little girls swarm him, holding them both as tightly as he dared.

"Hello there, Emily," he said, voice a deep rumble. "And this must be baby Rosie! Though you're lookin' pretty grown up to me!" The sweet girl played with the hem of her dress, all demure.

"Come on, Pop. Dinner's nearly ready."

Harley and Tess stood side by side like their own little army but there was no anger or unease in them as Paddy approached them, bowing his head a little out of respect. These were the women who showed his sons how to love, he knew. They had healed what he had broken. He would always be thankful for that.

"It's lovely to see you again, Paddy," Harley said with a look that shone.

"Please, take a seat, I'm just about to plate up," encouraged Tess, gesturing to the table. Brendan sat at the head, leaving the other end free for Tommy when he arrived later. Paddy sat to his left, with the two girls next to him, while Tess and Harley took the right side.

The conversation flowed as everyone made an effort to keep it so, wanting to focus on the good they had collected between them, not the things that had been left behind. Plus, the cheerful chatter of Emily and Rosie had them laughing often enough, and they were doing just that when Tommy arrived.

"Evenin'," he greeted, unsurprised by the presence of his father as it had been his idea to invite him. He had already showered and changed at the hotel, so he headed straight over to the table, pausing only to drop a kiss on Harley's temple before sitting down. His nieces waved jubilantly at him and he stuck his tongue out at them, earning himself a giggle while Tess handed him his plate.

"She even made you a special 'healthy' meal," Harley told him. "We got pasta and cheese, so I think we got the better end of the deal."

There were no fights, no arguments, no raised voices - except when they started to discuss which of the Terminator movies were the best - and at one point during the evening while everyone else was engaged in conversation Harley leaned over to Tommy.

"This is what family looks like," she whispered and he kissed her, chaste but filled with all the things he couldn't say at the dinner table. She hadn't been the one to give him this family but she had helped him become the person that allowed himself to be a part of it.

* * *

The final match took their lives by storm. The very city seemed to vibrate with adrenaline, the evening sky dark and clear, the stadium lit up with lights like stars. The rumble of the crowd and music could be heard from outside and as the Conlons and Harley were led up to their seats, it rolled through them like a war drum.

Harley let Tommy have his own space before each match and that night was no different, but she had broken the 'no guest' rule of the hotel to sneak into his room, needing to see him before he left for the fight. He had still been asleep as she had straddled him, littering kisses up his chest until he awoke slowly, groaning a little as she rocked her hips against his.

"My champion," she whispered in his ear, her tongue hot against the pulse in his neck.

"I've not won yet," Tommy murmured, enjoying being woken up with his woman on top of him. Harley shrugged and pulled off her top, smirking when Tommy's eyes widened at the pretty lingerie she had on. It wasn't the best she could find - she was saving that for their wedding night - but it was enough for Tommy to roll them over, nestling within the crook of her legs.

"You're always my champion," she replied with an exaggerated purr and then they were done talking.

A few hours later when Tommy really did have to leave, he helped her sneak back out of the hotel wearing one of his hoodies to hide her face from any reporters who might be by the side door. Just as she left, she went up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Go get 'em, tiger," she said with a grin and Tommy rolled his eyes, unable to stop from smiling. Her laughter followed her out as she crept back to her car, managing to escape any prying eyes. The whole thing felt a bit scandalous but they were  _engaged,_ he thought. Who could blame him?

That final fight was nigh on biblical. It was long and hard, tougher than any that came before. Both opponents were fighting for more than just cash, it was clear to see. The commentators fought to be heard over the chanting and cheering of the crowd. There were men and women in uniform, lining the stands, giving their support. But none were as loud as the small family by the front: Brendan and Paddy swung with Tommy, shouting out technical sounding names of moves, while Tess and Harley just jumped and yelled and cheered. Harley felt close to tears but refused to let them fall, not wanting to miss a second of the fight. It seemed to stretch on forever, each punch Tommy took feeling like a stab in the gut.

But then the opponent - my God, Harley couldn't even remember his name, she was so shaken - finally, finally hit the mat and stayed down. There was half a second of pure silence and then the ground shook, the room swelling with screams of such volume, Harley's head swam. She wasn't at all suited for the environment but she didn't care and as soon as Tommy was crowned champion, the four of them were pushing through the crowd to get to the cage.

Tommy's hand was being held up in triumph and he seemed dazed as if he had never quite expected to see the day. Harley banged on the door and called his name, begging him to hear her, and he did. He turned, their eyes catching like fire, and he marched towards her, throwing open the door with all the flare he was known for.

And then he was pulling her up into his arms, her legs wrapping out of reflex around his waist, and he was kissing her, kissing her in front of the whole world. Harley could hear Brendan and Tess laugh at their antics and she smiled into his mouth, tasting sweat and victory.

"You won," she said.

"Thank fuck," he whispered. "Don't know how we'd afford that wedding dress otherwise."

* * *

With an extra couple of million in the bank, it was easier to make decisions. Such is privilege, Harley thought as she packed her bags: their flight back to London was the following day. It had barely been two weeks but it felt like a lifetime. Tommy was coming with her since he had six months free reign in the UK before he needed any sort of visa, lucky sod. She originally was going to go by herself so that Tommy could deal with the aftermath of becoming the Champion of Troy, but after discussing their next steps, they decided that it would be easier to get married in the UK. There were a number of routes Harley could go through to obtain a green card: her mother was a US citizen, and there were visas open to her through being engaged to one, but they decided it was safer to wait until they were married and go down the spousal route instead. Tommy had been excited when he'd discovered that as a veteran, they would be able to expedite her naturalisation but Harley had just rolled her eyes.  _One thing at a time_ , she said,  _let's get me living there first_.

Which meant that wedding planning had suddenly become a priority. On the plane, she had gone through magazine after magazine, trying to get a feel for what she wanted. She had picked up things along the way in her life by seeing what friends had chosen and watching wedding programmes, so she had a vague idea of what she liked. Every so often, Tommy would peer over her shoulder and point out something he thought looked nice, which she appreciated. She had worried he would be one of those guys who just saw a wedding as an expensive party but he seemed to be as interested in it as her.

"I'm on television now, babe," he's scolded, semi-serious. "I can't be seen at no shambles of a weddin'." She'd hit him then and he'd kissed her in return, eyes glinting with laughter.

The first thing though was to buy the wedding rings. Harley adored Tommy's grandmother's engagement ring, simple yet with a touch of vintage elegance, and so she wanted something that would compliment it. High on his winnings, Tommy initially took her to all the big names in jewellery but Harley wasn't swayed by the modern perfection in the rings she saw. Eventually Tommy found a little quaint jeweller's on a dark corner, one Harley hadn't even seen before, and tugged her inside. Her gasp as she studied the rings was enough to make him smile.

In the end, she picked out a slender twisted rose gold band that was dotted with delicate flower-like diamonds, and Tommy selected the same design albeit in a wider, platinum ring minus the diamonds. The man who sold them took both their hands after and wished them all the happiness in the world. It gave Harley a warm feeling as they carried their rings back to the house, desperate as she was to marry this man she loved so much.

Time passed quickly as they were too busy getting their lives in order to have much down time and the time they did have was often spent in bed, indulging their addiction of one another in a way they had never dreamed of. To think, Harley thought, the last time she had been at that house, she had thought she would never see Tommy again, and now they were soon to be married, making love every night and nearly every morning, planning the rest of their lives together.

When Harley stumbled upon a website for a unexpected wedding venue, she knew immediately it was the one: Mount Stuart House on a small island up in Scotland. She'd never been that far North but loved the idea of the rolling hills and crashing waves as a backdrop for their ceremony. Tommy liked the look of the place and they arranged a trip for a viewing. When they saw the ceiling of the marble hall, even Tommy's mouth dropped in awe, the way the sun hit the stained glass making the whole room flood with colour.

"It's beautiful," Harley breathed, their guide smiling. "This is it, this is the place we're getting married."

It turned out that recently coming into a lot of money was also a solid way of ensuring they were on the bookings list despite the short notice. The manager's face had lit up at the sum Tommy promised and though Harley scolded him for his flagrant use of corruption afterwards, she'd done it with a wide grin because she was so deliriously happy.

The next few weeks were filled with appointments to see caterers and bakers and centrepiece makers. Harley took Holly and Tess, who had flown out especially, to go to dress shopping. There had been a shop called the Blush & Ivory that Harley had walked past as a girl and had fallen in love with the beautiful designs in the window, so it was the first place she had gone to book an appointment. Holly and Tess quickly acquainted themselves over a glass of bubbles as they sat on the white sofa in the viewing room, the consultant whisking Harley away for a fitting.

It took a couple of dresses but when she had walked out in a Julie Vino dress to stand before her friends, the pair of them gaped at her in wonder. It wasn't a style she had expected to like as it was a little bit risque, a touch loud, but when she saw herself in the wide mirror, she was certain nothing would compare to that dress. She imagined Tommy's face seeing her walk down the aisle and knew that it was the one.

Tess stayed long enough to appreciate the city gilded with Christmas lights and she walked arm in arm with Harley through Oxford Street and on, the pair of them admiring the decorations while amongst the bustle of holiday shoppers. After a while, they found a cafe near Covent Garden and they sat with their hands wrapped around a hot chocolate each, watching the world go by.

"I'm glad you're here," Harley said, meaning it. Tess had become an unlikely friend, the two of them bonding over their love for Conlon men. It wasn't an easy love, Tess would tell her, her wisdom well earned, but it was worth it.

"So am I," replied Tess with a warm smile, so very happy that her family had gained someone who, fundamentally, understood. They were like sisters now and soon they would be in truth, forever the guardians sworn to protect the ones they love.

"They've seen so much pain," Tess told her once. "It creeps in, even now, when Brendan thinks I'm not looking. Our beautiful girls healed much of it, but it will always be there, a scar that never quite goes away. It hurt me at first but I understand now. Some things, when learned, aren't meant to go away."

"They wouldn't be who they are without it," Harley agreed, for it was something she had learned in her own life. The things she had experienced as a child, the struggle it had been to care for her mother only to watch her die, it had changed her - but who would she be without it? Her love for Tommy had been formed in the very depths of grief, a love forged in the darkest flame. It was how it had always meant to be.

Nevertheless, every so often Harley would have to stop and pinch herself, it felt so much like living in a dream world. The fairytale life had never been on her horizons, so to have it now, to have all the things she had ever hoped life would bring, it brought her near to tears each time she thought about it. Tommy, her champion, her protector, her goddamn soul mate, had promised to always be by her side, to always love and cherish her. He wanted to share her life and what did she do to deserve it?

At night, she would worship him like a deity, offering praise as she took him in her mouth, laying her body down like the sacrifice. The failing light of the darkening sun would strike her body as Tommy took her, her spine concaving under his touch, a holy reckoning she never saw coming. Her name fell from Tommy's lips like a prayer and bathed in moonlight she came like the sundering of great cities.

When Christmas came, they sat around a small tree glistened with blinking lights of reds and golds, a slightly battered star resting proudly on the top. They didn't go to the effort of having a proper Christmas, knowing they would do it as big as possible next year when they were married, but it was beautiful all the same. Some of Harley's friends came round with presents, all eager to meet her husband-to-be, and though she was sad to have her first Christmas without her mum there, there was so much happiness to be found that she felt filled to the brim with it all, bursting at the seams.

Tommy's mouth was on her as the countdown to the closing of the year began, and when the bells tolled in the New Year, she came with a cry that felt like the throes of salvation. When Tommy joined her on the bed to kiss her, he was as one who had been remade.

"Happy New Year, baby."

* * *

It was difficult to organise a proper bachelor and bachelorette party with the half the people on the very short invite list being in another continent, even with all the extra cash. Harley suggested that Tommy fly back to Pittsburgh to see Colt and his brother, but he wasn't eager to spend a whole day in the air just for a party themed on him grieving single life. He just wanted to get married and finally be able to call Harley his wife.

"You're meant to go see strippers and whine about how you'll never have sex with another woman again," Harley said casually, but Tommy just scoffed.

"Who needs any of that when I have you?" he asked, embracing her from behind, kissing the back of her neck. Harley grinned, never getting tired of that drawl of his. "How 'bout we have a party where you dance around naked and we have sex after?" Harley laughed loud, charmed in a way.

"Normal evening for us then," she teased as she turned to face him and he gave her a lopsided smile that made butterflies flutter in her belly. When he pulled away, something caught her eye, changing her mood. Tommy sensed it but waited while she thought.

"It's not exactly a party, but how about we take a trip somewhere instead?" she asked, moving into the lounge to gently brush the back of her hand against her mother's urn. Tommy watched her with a soft look.

"I've left this for so long but… I think it's time. I think it's time for me to let her go."

So, instead of throwing a party to say farewell to the single life, they decided to say goodbye to the lonely life. Together they travelled down to the coast in Dover; Lily had told her daughter tales of visiting the white cliffs where she had walked as a girl with her father whenever she had struggled with being in a new country. Her childhood had been a pleasant one and Harley wanted to honour that time her mother had by letting her find peace in the cliffs for a final time.

They made their booking and then one early morning, Tommy and Harley walked up to the very edge of the cliffs. It wasn't too cold a day despite the time of year but the wind was brisk, sweeping past them with a wildness that took their breath away. The sky was clear and the winter sun was bright, a perfect day. Harley held the urn, the weight of it almost comforting.

"Thank you, mum," she murmured, her words lost in the great heights of the cliffs. "Thank you for everything you did for me. I want you to know that I'm happy, just like you wanted. I'm so,  _so_ happy. I got my happy ending; now it's time for you to have yours."

With a deep breath, Harley removed the lid and tossed the ashes out over the edge of the cliff. The wind caught them and swept them up like autumn leaves and Harley watched, Tommy at her side, as they danced in the breeze, almost jovial and quite beautiful, before falling down towards the stormy waves that crashed against the rocks.

"Be free," she whispered and she let out a deep breath. There had been a heavy burden in her heart for a long time, and she had thought that her only choice was to get used to carrying it. Now, the loss became light within her, and she didn't feel angry any more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote in this chapter is from Snow and Dirty Rain by Richard Siken.


	23. the embers of galaxies

one day you will meet someone

who will see the universe

that was knitted into your bones

and the embers of galaxies that glow to life in your eyes

and you will finally know

what love is supposed to feel like

**\- 23 -**

* * *

The day had come: she was getting married.

From the moment the alarm clock went off, Harley felt that if she moved too quickly, she would crack from the pressure of excitement, and shatter into a million pieces. It bubbled inside of her, making her fidget and bounce on her toes as she stared up at her wedding dress hanging on the wardrobe door. It was really happening.

In the nature of tradition, Harley hadn't seen Tommy since the afternoon before. She wondered whether he was feeling the same as she in that moment, nervous for the day ahead but in a good way. Only ever in a good way.

The venue had hosted the wedding party for the night, a separate wing dedicated each to the bride and the groom which took away the hassle of having to travel. Harley had fallen in love with her room instantly with the huge bed, rose wallpaper and white tulips that filled the space with a delicate perfume. The sun was already shining lazily through the Victorian windows which she threw open, letting the warmth soak into her skin.

She allowed herself a moment to think of her mum and it was a quiet wave of sadness that passed over her and was gone. Neither of the couple would have their mothers present for their wedding day but they knew how proud of them the women would be, and that they would honour them with their love.

A young woman brought through a breakfast tray with fresh orange juice and yoghurt with fruit, and wished her a very happy day. Harley could only beam back at her, thinking that if she started to say how thankful she was, she would never stop because she was so thankful, for everything. Of all the steps that had led her here, she couldn't bring herself to regret a single one.

It was easy to hear the bridesmaids arrive, their excited chatter echoing through the marble hallway. Harley let them in and they leapt at her, screeching in a way with left her in fits of giggles, wiping at her eyes. Tess was the only one who stayed back but only because she was carrying a number of takeaway coffee cups, the nearest one with 'BRIDE' and a love heart drawn on the side. Harley took it gratefully and kissed her almost-sister-in-law on the cheek, so very pleased she had agreed to being part of the big day.

"Right!" called Holly, clapping her hands together to grab their attention. She had taken her role of maid of honour very seriously, and already she was brandishing her camera, insistent on capturing every moment of the big day. "The hair and makeup team should be here any minute, so lemme get a pic of us all in our robes!"

They all squashed Harley together in a big hug for the photo and she was gripped with a fierce love for all of them. Along with Holly and Tess, she had two other women, Melanie and Anna, who had been students with her at the performing arts school, one a dancer like her, and one a theatrical singer. Harley had been worried that there might have been some awkwardness as they were all from such different backgrounds but the the four of them had immediately banded together, friendship forged from being determined to give the bride the best wedding there was.

Tommy had flown in his family a week before the wedding so they could have a little vacation in London to see the sights before they travelled up together, which allowed for the bridesmaids to meet for the first time. Holly, dismayed that her best friend had robbed her of the chance to throw her a hen party, had dragged the women out for a night of cocktails and gossip, and the five of them hadn't stopped laughing once.

Now, here they were getting ready, the hair stylists working their magic while the makeup artists organised their brushes and palettes. There was something very opulent about having a team of people do your hair and makeup, especially when the coffee was finished and the mimosas were brought out. The women worked quickly and soon she was being helped into her wedding dress, careful not to catch the lace as it was fastened.

The skirt of the dress was quite revealing and so for the ceremony Harley had opted to have an additional skirt that had a long train to made it most modest and traditional. Plus, she thought it be would be fun to see Tommy's look afterwards when she took it off - she wasn't usually the risque type but it give her a sense of thrill.

Next came the veil which was a cathedral style with lace detailing on the edge. The idea of mixing a more modern look with traditional elements was mimicked through the entire wedding, ivories and pastels put against bright shocks of colour. The bridesmaids wore dresses that were long and floaty, each one a different shade of pale dusty blue, peach and cream, and they all wore flower crowns that matched Harley's bouquet. It was all a little bit quirky but Harley and Tommy had liked it that way, the feel that it was all truly individual to them.

Once she was ready, Harley was allowed to see herself for the first time as the bride. A full length mirror graced the wall and her little audience watched from the side as she took it all in. Her bouquet was made up of flowers of deep red and peach, mint and faded blue, and long trailing mint green leaves; a happy bundle of flowers that seemed to carry summer within their petals. Her hair had been curled and twisted into an updo, with dainty flowers of white and blush dotted all over.

Seeing herself, it seemed to hit her then in that moment: it was really happening. She was getting married to the love of her life, her soul mate, and she had never felt more beautiful in all of her days. It took all of her effort to blink away the few tears that had started to well. She sniffed a little and everyone laughed, sounding like they were having the same struggle.

"You look beautiful," Tess told her and the others agreed with so much enthusiasm, Harley chuckled.

"You all look so gorgeous," she told them as they collected their own smaller bouquets which matched the flowers in her hair. The hair and makeup team gushed over them all and took a flurry of photos with Holly's careful direction, finishing up any last second tweaks before they had to leave.

The bridesmaids left soon after and Harley took a moment on the landing to just breathe, listening to the murmur of their guests below. The ceremony would take place in the old chapel so was to be watched over only by their closest friends and family, with everyone else invited to the party in the marble hall afterwards. It wasn't a huge gathering by any means but that made it all the more special, knowing that all those who meant something to them were able to share in this happy day.

The staff had worked tirelessly through the night to set up the ceremony space and as Harley peered down onto it, she had to gasp. She had told them that she wanted fairy lights but that had been difficult to arrange so instead she saw they had lit what looked like over a hundred candles, some big, some small, all with little flames that flickered against the stained glass and vaulted ceilings, giving the impression of a grand painting come to life.

"Do you approve, lassie?" Harley turned to see her consultant, a stout woman with a warm smile, watching her from the sidelines. She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. The woman just patted her on the shoulder then gestured to the sweeping staircase, the piano already beginning to sound. "It's time, my dear. We don't want to keep your man waiting now, do we?"

The chamber from which the procession began was small and to the side of the chapel, large heavy drapes hid them from view. Harley arrived just as the groomsmen began the procession with Brendan, as Tommy's best man, the last to go but he saw her arrive and turned at the last moment to catch a glimpse of her.

"Wow," he mouthed, giving her the thumbs up before his wife shooed him out. Next went Tess, Melanie and Anna in single file while Holly straightened out Harley's train and veil, making sure they would sweep out behind her as she walked.

"I am so proud of you," the redhead told her, eyes glossy. Harley hugged her tight, then with a cheeky wink, Holly glided down the aisle. Rosie, the flower girl, hadn't wanted to be by herself so Emily had graciously deigned to give up her bridesmaid position for one as Senior Flower Girl (as she called it) so she could walk with her sister down the aisle. They both waved at Harley before they grabbed their flower baskets and followed Holly out, leaving Harley was alone.

There was no father to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day but she wasn't sad about that. Each one of her steps would be her own; she didn't need anyone to give her away.

With the piano as her guide, Harley stepped out from beneath the curtains and began her procession: her one last solitary walk. The aisle to the chapel was carpeted with petals, shadows thrown back and forth from all the candles, and there was the taste of magic in the air. The room fell silent with a hush as the guests turned to watch her but their faces had faded away until it was only her and the man stood waiting. Dressed as he was in a dark teal suit with a grey tweed waistcoat, a deep red dahlia tucked into his front pocket, there was the look of regality about him, her prince, her king.

When Tommy turned to look at her, their eyes meeting with a battle clash, Harley felt consumed by fire, burning in the most beautiful way. His jaw dropped at the sight of her, those stormy eyes running the length of her body, and her steps quickened without intent, desperate as she was to stand at his side. Tommy didn't look away the whole time she walked the aisle until she was before him, his gaze raking over her with a hunger she would never tire of.

Inside the main chapel where the guests were seated was a smaller, private room which only the couple, the best man, the maid of honour and the pastor were allowed to enter. Having not seen it before, Holly and Brendan hesitated as they followed the couple in and Harley wasn't surprised: the whole floor was made of mirrors so that that it reflected the ceiling which had been stylised to mimic the night sky. In the low light, it appeared that there was no floor, only empty space, requiring a 'leap of faith' in order to enter.

Though separated, their guests could still see and hear them, the chapel reverberating their words up into even the lofty rafters. Yet when it was time for them to say their vows, it felt as if the whole world had fallen away, leaving naught but them alone among the stars.

"Harley, baby," Tommy began and the seriousness in eyes had Harley holding her breath. Tommy was a man of few words but this was the time he had to lay his heart out for the woman he loved, and nothing but the truth would do.

"You came into my life bringin' light when I didn't know anythin' but darkness. I had resigned myself to a life of solitude and loss, but then you showed me that I still had so much to live for, that I had a family to love and be loved by."

Brendan smiled, head bowing a little, glancing out to where his father stood next to his daughters. They had all come together in celebration of Tommy's journey and he was so glad for it.

"Harley, you saved me when I thought I was past savin' and for that, I will never stop tryin' to be worthy of your love, to be able to stand at your side as your husband, your friend, and your equal. Throughout our life together, I promise to always be your protector, your supporter, your champion. I promise to always catch the spiders and let you sleep in on Sundays."

The audience laughed and Harley giggled, wiping away a few stray tears, hoping she didn't ruin her makeup. Tommy grinned and her heart swelled so big, she thought her chest would burst.

"You told me once that it's not about winnin' the fight but havin' somethin' to fight for, and you're it, baby. I will always fight for you. This I vow."

Harley wanted to sob, to throw her arms around Tommy and hold him so tight that he could never let go. This man, this beautiful,  _beautiful_  man had handed her his heart, his damn soul and she swore to the heavens that she would protect it for all time.

"Oh, Tommy! My love, my life!" Harley exclaimed, her voice raw with emotion. "I came to Pittsburgh ready to bury a life but I ended up finding one instead. You healed me when I didn't even know I was broken." She tried desperately to keep the tears at bay but her voice cracked with the weight of them, and Tommy smiled softly.

"You showed me that strength could be used to protect, not just hurt. That fire could warm, not just burn. Without even knowing it, you showed me that I could trust in a world that I had feared for so long. When I thought I would drown, you pulled me from the waters. When I thought I was lost forever, you found me."

Many of their guests would assume her words were poetic but Tommy knew how true they were. He remembered the night he had found her, half dead in the swimming pool; the day he had arrived at her house, ring in his pocket - and here they were.

"Tommy, I promise to never judge you. I promise to always keep you on your toes, and to celebrate every victory with you. I promise to be there when no one else is. I promise to love you on your good days and love you more on your bad days. I promise that you will never have to face your demons alone again. This I vow."

Tommy's eyes sparkled, his expression so tender that it made her heart hurt. She knew that he had never expected to see this day, that even after all her  _I love you's_ , he still struggled to believe it. She hoped, prayed, that he believed it now.

They exchanged rings and the weight of them was more than the sum of their parts. Harley had to resist holding her hand out to admire the thing, knowing she would have plenty of time to do that afterwards.

"Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder," declared the pastor. Then, with a great smile, it was done. "I pronounce you Husband and Wife: you may now kiss your bride."

The crowd came to their feet with an applause that echoed as Tommy dipped Harley low for a kiss that had them burning, gasping for breath. There was a wolf whistle and happy laughter, and they straightened up with breathless, sunny grins. Holly and Brendan quickly adjusted Harley's train as she turned and then they were all walking back down the aisle, the bridesmaids and groomsmen following them out.

Taking the lead, the best man and maid of honour quickly hustled everyone out of the chapel and towards the marble hall where tables had been set up, while Harley and Tommy headed up the staircase and into the bridal suite. Tommy gave one last wave to their guests before Harley tugged him inside, closing the door behind him.

"We did it," she said, feeling lightheaded. They didn't have long until they were expected back down to greet their new guests but when Tommy gazed at her with that half feral look in his eye, already removing his suit jacket, Harley knew that they were going to be late.

"Jesus, baby, that fuckin'  _dress_ ," he exclaimed and Harley spun for him, the extended skirt and long veil twirling out behind like she was a princess. She was both coy and wild, made of wildflowers and the ocean, Tommy the moon that pulled her waves, magnetic.

First she removed her veil and then her train, hanging them both over the back of a chair. Tommy's eyes were wide as he saw how the original skirt of the dress split from the waist down, revealing the length of both her long legs as well as the garter set she had on. It had been a little surprise for her husband alone, knowing that it would be hidden during the ceremony, and when she saw the way his hunger went taut then snapped, it made her feel as water, tied to the push and pull of him, always.

Tommy lifted her into his arms without effort, his mercurial wife, and let her fall back onto the four poster bed. Harley sighed and spread her legs beneath his gaze, keeping eye contact as she traced her fingers slowly up her thighs, past her the suspenders and brushed against the edge of her white lace panties that left very little to the imagination.

Breathing hard, Tommy went to his knees before her and mouthed against the flimsy fabric, already tasting the salt of her wetness there. Harley moaned, wanton, as he unclipped her suspenders and pulled down the panties enough that he could dip his tongue into the heat of her, sucking at her clit in a way that had Harley crying out, her hips bucking against his mouth.

"So eager," Tommy chided, earning a string of expletives that almost had him blushing. Harley pulled at his hair, demanding without words that he join her, and he did so without hesitation, rubbing his hardness against her as he stole a kiss, then another, and another.

"Oh God,  _please_ , Tommy," Harley begged without shame and Tommy held back no longer. With one hand he undid his trousers and then he was pushing inside her with one long thrust, enjoying the way her back arched beneath him, her head falling back to reveal the curve of her neck. He sucked at her pulse as she clutched at the bedsheets, unbidden, and they moved as one, reaching and reaching, climbing together until they came hard and glorious.

After, once they had collapsed onto the bed beside each other, they began to laugh. Harley rolled over to cuddle against Tommy's chest and he kissed her temple. They lay there for as long as they dared, lazy in their contentment, until it was time to clean up and get ready to see their guests.

Once Harley was sure that they looked as innocent as possible - a concept to which Tommy could only scoff, everyone knew what they had been doing up there, surely - they left the suite. They were introduced by the band and their guests applauded their entrance, some cheers and whoops thrown in for good measure. Tommy bowed and Harley curtsied before they sat down at the head table, their wedding party on either side.

If anyone had worried about the speeches, they shouldn't have done. Brendan's was heartfelt, touching briefly on their troubled childhood in a way that didn't villainise Paddy but merely emphasised how far his baby brother had come. Tess kissed him sweetly when he sat down and Tommy gripped his shoulder hard.

Holly's speech was a happy opposite, full of jokes and stories that had the audience crying for a whole other reason. Harley had to hide her face a couple of times, blushing as Holly took them all down memory lane, but she was grateful that she had a best friend able to remind her of all the good times they'd had when it was so easy to only remember the bad ones.

After dinner, Tommy took Harley to the centre of the room for their first dance. Though they had never really had a 'song', it hadn't taken long for them to agree on the one they had wanted to play for this moment. When the music began, the lights dimmed and they began to dance in a slow circle, so close that Harley could hear Tommy's heartbeat. Brendan and Tess were the next couple to join them, followed by Holly and her girlfriend, and as the music changed, the rest of the guests slowly filled the floor.

When the day came to its natural end, the newlyweds were bid farewell from their loved ones, so many kisses and hugs shared that Harley felt overwhelmed. Sensing this, Tommy quickly pulled her up into his arms, earning another round of cheers, and he carried her down to the town car that was waiting to take them to the ferry.

Harley curled up in Tommy's lap for the short distance, hoping she would never come to take their closeness for granted.

"We did it, Tommy," she murmured, knowing he would understand.

"I know, baby," said Tommy, almost delirious with the wonder of it all. They had won the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote from this chapter is called What Does Love Feel Like? by Nikita Gill.


	24. epilogue

summer is known to be the season for us wild animals

who keep our hearts in brambles

who gain our magic at the heart of a storm

break not, my love, winter has released us

and the best is yet to come

**\- epilogue -**

* * *

It was a beautiful day, the sun warm and bright. There was the smell of cooking in the summer air as the Conlon brothers wrangled with the barbecue, beers in hand. Lucky for them, Paddy was there with stern instructions to teach them how to properly grill burgers.

Under the gazebo, wine glass in hand, Tess was recounting a story that had Harley laughing as she poured herself another lemonade, her free hand resting lightly on her bump. The pair of them looked up as the dog barked, Emily apparently taking too long to throw his ball. When she did, the golden retriever bounded off to fetch it, only to drop it loyally at her feet again after.

Meanwhile Rosie, who was ecstatic at no longer being the baby, was showing her cousin how to make daisy chains, their little brows furrowed in concentration as they pieced them together. Tommy turned to watch the pair of them with a smile, seeing the way the sunshine glinted off his daughter's dark hair, as wild as her mother's.

"Hey, Sophie! Come an' pick your burger," he called, and the little girl immediately hurried over, letting him scoop her up into his arms so she could peer down at the barbecue in fascination, her serious eyes the same stormy blue as her dad's. The burgers all looked equally yummy to her so she just stuck out a chubby finger at the nearest one and her daddy nodded in approval.

"Good choice, princess," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek before letting her back down. Rosie and Emily appeared at his side, wanting to pick theirs too. When done, they each took one of Sophie's hands and ran with her back over to the dog who had been waiting patiently by his ball.

Tommy looked over at his wife and found her already looking at him. Their gazes caught and Harley winked at him, those green eyes always so full of mischief. Every day, he fell in love with her all over again, and the love he felt for his baby girl and unborn son consumed him so beautifully. Their fights were won. There were no more nightmares to be had.

Surrounded by family, the sun warm on his face, Tommy was wholly and completely at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is by Raquel Isabelle de Alderete, also known as r.i.d. on her tumblr inkskinned.
> 
> So this really is the final, final chapter. I always wanted a last little goodbye to our characters to show that they really did get their happy ever after in the end. Thank you so much for reading this story, I hope you enjoyed it as much I enjoyed writing it. Much love.


End file.
